Of the Wooded Land
by Kitty O
Summary: Merlin thinks that the nightmares are to be expected. But then they turn out to be real, and suddenly he finds he has a quest to go on and a damsel in distress to save. Oh, and Arthur's going to help. Merlin/OC, no slash. Sequel to "Scheming Woman".
1. Beginning

_HI! Yes, I finally, finally got to post this story! YES! The season finale showed in America last night, so I'm free of spoilers for my American readers who actually WAIT for the show to come on TV. I am not one of those. Note that there may be some things I put that will not coincide with s4. Can't be helped. As for betaing… It's unbetaed at the moment, because I'm waiting to see if DarkAngel2112 wants to beta me. _

_Also, I'm not going to make you wait and guess about the title. There is a very obvious reason for it. Xyla, in Arabic (I think it's Arabic) means "Of the wooded land", and a lot of this should take place in the woods. I thought about the title "Silvae" which means "of the woods" in Latin, but decided against it. Also note I wrote this a while ago, so I can't promise anything about the writing style. Hopefully it's okay. _

_I will try my hardest to update once a week. If I don't, check my profile for my excuse. _

_This is rated T for possible sight name-calling and/or language later on that is not completely appropriate. I could get away with calling it K+, I know, but I'm paranoid and way too sheltered. So there you are. _

_Here's the sequel to Scheming Woman at long last! ENJOY! All spells are Welsh. Probably incorrect Welsh._

**Prologue**

* * *

><p>The dark-haired beauty fell to her knees, dropping the person she held in her arms. That person was in no position to complain, but was completely still as the woman placed her hands on the root-and-twig-strewn forest floor, gasping. After a moment, she caught her breath and looked up at the sky, her green eyes flashing gold.<p>

"_Gwneud i mi gryfach."_

The words, layered with magic, seemed to make her feel better, and she stood up again, once more picking up her unconscious companion nearly effortlessly.

"Don't worry," she told the one in her arms. "Soon we'll find her, and you'll wake again."

Then she lifted her head and kept on, deeper into the lush green forest. They were almost there. She looked to both sides often, eyes alert. "Any minute now," she kept muttering, and suddenly, as though there was some silent signal, she whispered, "We're here."

_We're here. _The words seemed to echo, to spread throughout the forest, filling it up to the brim. She put her companion down on the forest floor, checking to make sure there was nothing sharp that could cause any damage to her body. The woman smiled to herself as she stood back up, but the smile faltered after a few minutes when nothing happened.

In a second, she was scowling. _He better not have lied to me. To me! This is where that worthless man said she'd be, the healer-girl. He __looked__ like he was telling the truth. _

And he had. His arms had been shaking as he faced her, and his eyes had spoken of nothing but sincere fear for her and her power, and even her silent, sleeping companion. _"I'm sure she can heal that one," _he'd said. _"She's been training in medicine for over a year, and she's powerful. She's _sihirli kisi_. A magic woman."_

Her mouth, that so many men found so appealing, twisted into a little pout. "Hello?" she called, inwardly planning all the things she would do to that man if he had lied…

"Hello."

The voice and the crunch of leaves announced the entrance of the one she'd come looking for.

The woman, her dark waves swirling about her shoulders, spun around to face the stranger. She looked her up and down critically. Another woman, younger than herself, but not by much. She was mildly attractive, at least, the woman noted, but if the flirtatious, long eyelashes were anything to go by, men would find her _very _attractive indeed. Her eyes were brown and soulful, annoyingly so. Her nose was thin and wrinkled itself up in a cutesy expression a lot. _A flirtatious wench,_ the woman guessed. Her hair matched her eyes, brown, the common color.

Interestingly, she wore a faded blue neckerchief over her billowy shirt and tight trousers. That reminded the woman of someone… Someone that her blood boiled to even think of…

"Can I help you?" asked the girl, her head tilting to the side.

"You are Xyla?"

"I am."

The woman stepped aside and let her see the unconscious one.

Xyla gasped. "She's injured! What happened? Who is she?" The brown-eyed girl rushed to the side of the sleeping female, all of the words coming out in one concerned breath.

"My sister. She was… hurt. She's dying, and they told me you could fix her." The woman's voice cracked a little, showing that she cared despite her cold demeanor.

"How long has she been asleep?" asked Xyla, feeling the blonde's wrist for a pulse.

"Several days."

"An accident?"

"Not exactly. Can you help her?"

"Of course. My pack is behind that tree – just there. Please get it. It has herbs and such."

"You can't just use magic?" questioned the black-haired woman suspiciously.

Xyla smiled up at her indulgently. "You said several days since she'd been injured, did you not? Am I the healer or are you?"

The woman simmered a little at her impudence, but wisely did as she was told, watching as the girl began to enchant spells over her sister. "Merlin," she muttered as she put the cloth bag by her sister, remembering the name her sister had muttered during the brief time she had awoken. Remembering how the blonde had insisted it was Merlin's fault. "He'll pay for this," she growled, her rage boiling inside her.

Xyla froze, hand extended to open the pack. "What did you just say?"

The woman shrugged. "Nothing."

Xyla looked momentarily suspicious, but then she shook her head. _Drat, I'm imagining things again. _

"What happened to her?" she asked the scary-looking woman as she took a creamy substance from her sack and rubbed it over her rough hands.

"I think she was thrown against a wall…"

"Ow, I know how that feels." Xyla seemed to be remembering something painful, for she rubbed the back of her head. "What's her name?"

The woman stiffened. Xyla saw and immediately put her hands up in surrender. "Off-limits? Okay… I suppose I shouldn't ask for yours, either, huh?" Smiling, the healer began to methodically rub the white substance into the unconscious one's temples in a circular motion. "She's going to have a headache when she awakes," warned the healer, and promptly went back to reciting whispered spells.

"Pathetic servant," mumbled the dark-haired woman to herself, and again it gave Xyla pause… Though, of course, she couldn't know who the woman was talking about.

"Servant?" said the healer. "Then… you did say…" Her eyes narrowed distrustfully; her hands stopped moving.

"What?"

Xyla didn't answer, but her hand moved away from the patient's face, towards her hip where no doubt she hid a knife. "What did you say your name was again?"

Instantly the woman's arm shot up and grabbed Xyla around the wrist. Xyla didn't move, but looked up, into the woman's eyes.

The woman wondered, staring at Xyla suspiciously… Was it possible that…? There was one way to find out, a spell Morgause had taught her:

"_Gadewch i mi weld y gwir."_

"What… stop that; let my arm go… Who are you?"

The woman gasped. "You… you _reek_ of Merlin!" she accused, her nose wrinkling in repulsion and disbelief.

_That _was going too far. "I don't_ reek_!"

"It's old," she whispered, "But it is still there. Your clothes are tainted with his!"

"I _wash_ them!" Xyla shouted defensively.

"Your hair… your arms… your _lips_, they all shout out Merlin! You know him!" The woman was terrifying now, her eyes crackling with an electric magic, her face as pale as death…

"I don't know what you mean; let me go; let me help your sister…" The woman's vise-like grip was proving impossible to escape, though Xyla twisted and struggled. Suddenly the woman's hands glowed red, as hot as branding irons, and Xyla yelped.

"_How do you know Merlin?" _The woman's voice was now completely magical, her eyes were so gold they hurt to look into.

"I… I don't. Who are you?"

"_How?"_

"I just _met him_, okay? I saved his life, and he saved me… Let go!" Xyla was scared, tossing her head and pulling away from the woman's grip.

"_How long ago?"_

"A year? More?"

"_You kissed him. Did you love him?"_

Xyla tried to smile quirkily. It was hard. "No, I'm just a disgrace to my name, can't lay off the men…"

The grip suddenly tightened, and Xyla jerked, thinking her arm would break. "Okay, okay! I loved him! That's why I wear this stupid neckerchief, anyway."

"_Why did you leave?"_

"I was supposed to be dead; I tried to kill Uther and… _Ow!_ Stop that; I'm telling the truth, I'd swear it! The man killed my family and friend, I… _OUCH_, cut that out!" she hissed, infuriated.

The grip lessened, and the woman pulled back. Xyla yanked her arm back to herself, tears in her eyes when she saw the angry burn on it.

The woman smiled, a scary, evil smile that Xyla didn't like at all.

"Finish healing my sister."

Xyla, numb with fright and nearly speechless with shock, actually did. She didn't know what was going on, but an injured woman… That she understood, and could fix.

"My name is Morgana," said the woman, oddly polite, and Xyla looked startled. "You know me?"

"Merlin mentioned you… He said you were gone."

"Did he say that he poisoned me?"

"Yes…" admitted Xyla. "But he didn't want to; he missed you."

Morgana scoffed. "I _hate_ him. He did _this_ to my sister."

"Why?" asked Xyla in a low voice, already trying to make excuses for the man in her head.

Morgana tilted her chin with an air of pride. "We tried to kill Uther, to take Camelot."

Xyla grinned ruefully, an odd expression, considering everything. "I bet Merlin_ loved_ that. Don't tell me you went after Arthur, too? Because he won't put up with that; believe me, I know."

Morgana was more serious. "I want revenge."

Xyla's smile fell. She leaned back a little from Morgause's body.

"On Uther, too. And I think you will help me."

"No, thanks, Lady Morgana… I tried that once; I'm not doing it again. I have to refuse…" Her arm went back again, going for the knife she always had under her clothes, her mind thinking up all the spells she could use to defend herself.

Morgana was faster. In an instant, she had Xyla by the arm, and she spat her spell before Xyla's could be articulated.

_"I never said you had a choice."_

Xyla screamed once as her arm burned with the spell's power. Was it smoke or was her vision blackening; was she crazy or was her mind floating away from her body; was everything spinning?

Morgana's malicious smile was the last thing she saw. And, honestly, she could think of better things to be seeing as she dropped into darkness.


	2. 1: Headaches

**Chapter One**

* * *

><p>Merlin hadn't dreamed of Xyla in weeks, perhaps months. That he should suddenly have such a vivid nightmare was strange, to say the least. And unsettling to say a little more.<p>

_Xyla screamed somewhere through the murky darkness, and somehow he could tell the scream was directed at him. _

"_Xyla?" he called, his arms in front of him, trying to wave away the black. "What is it; where are you?"_

"_Merlin?" Her voice floated to him as though from nowhere or everywhere, filled with pain and tears. "Merlin, I need you."_

"_I'll come! Where are you?"_

"_Please find me, Merlin, please. Only you can help… It's so terrible. It's so…terrible…"_

_Her voice was fading, sending Merlin into pure panic. "No, Xyla, don't leave! Don't! I need to know more!"_

"_I love you, Merlin." It was quieter than the quietest whisper. "I trust you. You'll find me."_

"_I can't find you! I can't help you! Xyla!"_

Then he sat up in a cold sweat.

The nightmare had been odd. In most of his dreams about Xyla, he could see her. They were together, and laughing, talking, sometimes kissing. And she spoke naturally, joking and being too cute to be true.

Laughter was Xyla. Good intentions mixed with irrational decisions were Xyla. A panicked scream in the blackness was not Xyla. So why would he dream about that…?

He almost didn't want to know.

But, at the same time, he really did.

He didn't get any more sleep that night; he was too busy thinking.

* * *

><p>"What do you mean, you don't remember?" snapped Morgana. Her hands were on her hips with her scariest face on, but Morgause was unaffected.<p>

"Sister, I mean exactly what I said," replied the elder of the two, lounging back on her throne-like chair, trying not to get angry. She allowed herself to get angry with anyone but Morgana, because when she got angry, people died. And despite her irritation, she did not want Morgana to die. Morgause rubbed her temples, which had begun to ache.

"You kept saying that Merlin had done something, but you wouldn't tell me what. And now you don't _remember_?" Morgana, whose anger was much less terrifying than her sister's (though her smiles were deadly), had no qualms about barking at her sister. She folded her arms and leaned back against the table in the middle of the room in this old castle.

"Sister, I hit my head rather hard, if you remember."

Morgana eyed her for a minute before nodding and swooping down to give her sister a hug. "Does it hurt?" she asked softly.

Morgause, the warrior through and through, just shrugged, unwilling to show how her head ached. Morgana guessed anyway.

"I'll go find the healer girl's pack. It has some useful herbs in it."

Morgause put her head in her hands and nodded her thanks. What would she do without her enchanting little sister?

Morgana's heels clicked against the floor and paused by the door. "If you can't remember, Morgause, don't fret." Morgause never fretted. "We'll just ask Merlin himself when he gets here." Then she chuckled and was gone.

* * *

><p><em>Hell. <em>

It was the only thought Xyla had at the moment, repeating over and over like a drum in her head. She wasn't in any mood to find more powerful curses.

Her head.

It hurt.

It hurt very badly, making her curl up into a ball and press her head desperately into her bony knees, hoping that the pressure would either cause the pain to stop… Or make her head implode. Either way was fine with her.

_Hell and curses. _

_Curse you, Morgana. And you, whatever-your-name-is, blondie. And you, Merlin. I'm sure this is your fault._

She swore out loud, wondering if she could beat her head against the wall of the dark cell, or if the stone floor would be better. But moving made her nauseated, so she sat there for an indefinite amount of time.

At last the pain seemed to drain away, just slightly. At least she could breathe and think again.

_Oh, that hurt. _

She rubbed her head and let herself lean back into the wall of the dungeon, still faintly cursing Morgana for the spell that left her head in such a condition. Dream-sending took a lot of energy.

And it was completely pointless anyway, because Merlin was not going to listen to any silly dreams sent in that whiny voice… For heaven's sake, she never sounded like that! She might have only known Merlin for a week or so, but she was sure he wasn't an idiot. He wouldn't listen to such a stupid dream.

She hoped…

* * *

><p>Merlin thought he had finally figured out why he was dreaming of her now. And he didn't like his conclusion.<p>

Getting up, he slipped on and smoothed down his shirt, then reached to grab his neckerchief. He smiled a little, as though for practice, not liking the way it stretched his mouth uncomfortably and unnaturally. But he had to look perky, or Arthur would think something was wrong and ask him about it.

There were so many reasons that he couldn't tell Arthur what he was thinking, but the biggest one was that he just didn't want to. He didn't think he'd ever tell Arthur, but certainly not now, when the memory was only a few days old.

Sighing, he made his way to the door, trying to keep his heavy eyelids open, and opened it.

Just a whiff of the air let him know Gaius had burned something, probably breakfast.

Burned…

_Burned hair, burned clothes, dead glass eyes. The words still echoing around the clearing, only heard by him. Traitor, pretender; "I'm doing the right thing"… Gods, how he hated that last one…_

Shuddering, Merlin yanked himself back to reality. _No,_ he thought. _That is not for thinking. That one is for repressing._

Plastering his normal smile on his face, Merlin walked out the door and began his day.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I wanted to get everything set up, but hopefully it will longer next time. By the way, I'll be doing some things that I never got into last story. Like the fact that Xyla thought of Merlin as innocent and good, remember? And her grudge against everything Pendragon. I might even poke at Arthur's belief of magic being evil, though I don't plan on this being a reveal. Please, please review?_


	3. 2: Suspicions

**Chapter Two**

* * *

><p>Arthur, contrary to popular belief, was not stupid.<p>

Nor was he always unobservant; if he considered someone important enough to notice, then he had hardly any trouble gauging his or her mood. This was an important characteristic for a future king to have, and the people in his life had allowed him to hone the talent.

After all, when his father was in a sorcerer-killing mood, he didn't want to argue logic as fiercely as Morgana used to. There was a reason that Morgana had found herself pressed up against a chair, an iron hand clasped around her neck, and Arthur never had. Morgana was another reason he'd had plenty of practice with that particular talent; even for a woman she had volatile emotions.

(_Don't think of her_, he reminded himself, wincing. Morgana didn't live with them anymore; she was a traitor.)

As for Merlin, he was a hard person to read. An open book? Hardly. (But there was always something about Merlin, anyway, which made him different.)

Hard though it was to understand Merlin, Arthur could tell that there was something bothering him this morning. Actually, there had been something on the servant's mind all week, something which slowed down the appearance of that goofy smile when his name was called, something that made him lapse into silence on occasion. It was just worse this morning.

After a few minutes of watching Merlin pick up his room, Arthur finally spoke. "_Mer_lin, what's wrong with you this morning?"

Merlin dropped the fire poker and jumped about a foot.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Jumpy, aren't you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me. I'm just tired. Are you finished with breakfast, Sire?" Merlin turned around, smiling a little. Arthur saw his hunched shoulders and wasn't convinced.

"No, I'm not. Merlin, something's been on your mind all week. You look like you haven't slept in days. Are you sick?"

Actually, it had been two days. (Merlin had dreamed of Xyla again last night.) He just hadn't thought Arthur had noticed yesterday, and hadn't thought he would mention it today either. Merlin wanted to jump on the excuse Arthur offered; he could say he was sick. But then Arthur might drag him off to face Gaius, and he didn't want to see Gaius now.

"No, just tired." He bent down to pick up the poker.

"_Merlin_," said the prince, standing and walking threateningly towards his servant. "You've been acting off ever since that sorceress attacked Camelot a week ago."

Merlin dropped the poker again, and this time he froze and didn't pick it up.

There was a moment of silence.

Then Merlin recovered. "Finished with breakfast, then, Sire?" He stood up in a swooping motion, putting himself behind Arthur and rushing over to the table at the end of Arthur's bed. "I'll just… go then. I'll be back to help you get ready for training." He grabbed the empty tray, smiled one last Merlin-smile at his master, and went towards the door.

Exasperated, Arthur called after him: "You know you can't avoid this forever, right?"

Another thing about Arthur. He was used to getting what he wanted. He usually got what he wanted, even if it took a long time. And if he didn't, he got very annoyed.

Merlin winced as he scurried down the hall. He could've handled that better.

* * *

><p>"Percy," said Gwaine, pausing in his training long enough to look to the side. "Have you noticed something off about Merlin lately?"<p>

"Since the last attack?" asked Percival, a large blond man with a kind smile and frightening muscles, relaxing his own grip on his sword.

Gwaine's handsome face lit up and he flipped his hair out of his face. "You noticed, then?"

Percival shook his head. Of all the newest knights, he knew Merlin the least. He knew the man was the secretive type, of course. And for someone who wasn't overly smart, Percival wasn't particularly dull either; he knew that the reason some men were secretive was that they actually wanted to keep things…_ secret_. So Percy didn't waste a lot of energy trying to puzzle out Merlin, unlike certain other knights.

"No," he said. "Lancelot mentioned it."

Gwaine nodded as he watched Merlin approach the training field behind Arthur. "I'll ask Lance when I visit him, then," he said with a smile.

Lancelot had been injured – burned – in the attack a few days ago. Not fatally, but painfully. Gaius had kept him holed up in bed, recuperating, for the next few weeks.

(Lancelot was presently plotting a jailbreak from the soft prison. Elyan was going to help him. Gwaine was going to bring the alcohol. Percival just shook his head.)

Gwaine and Percival continued sparring before Arthur and Merlin reached them and realized what they were talking about.

* * *

><p>That night, the sound of the door opening yanked Xyla out of her daze. Her head came up, and she glared a very annoyed glare at the door. "Excuse me for not standing," she said irritably, gesturing at the shackles that were now around her wrist. Someone had put them there when her headache was distracting her last night. She didn't consider that fair.<p>

Morgana smiled. "Ready?"

"No," retorted Xyla. "I'm tired."

"Come on," said Morgana with a smirk, slinking into the stone dungeon. "You just need to play your part, and pretty soon you'll be seeing that boyfriend of yours."

Xyla wanted to make a comment about overdramatic women and theatrics, but she felt fear closing up her throat. She wasn't sure if she was more terrified of the headache that was sure to be coming back or the thought of Merlin falling for Morgana's trick.

Morgana was getting closer, her red dress scraping against the ground if the dungeon, and Xyla stubbornly refused to back up or shudder at the sound. But she didn't meet Morgana's eyes either.

Her stomach fluttered with nerves as Morgana reached across Xyla and took either side of her head in both delicate hands. They were cold. Xyla didn't shiver.

"Let's contact Merlin again, shall we?" whispered Morgana.

Xyla didn't react.

"_Anfonwch hyn yn freuddwyd i Merlin."_

It wasn't pain at first. It was like a wild spray of purples, golds, and reds exploded in her head, covering her eyesight, shocking her heart into beating faster, and she instinctively tried to fight back with magic, forgetting, as she had the previous nights, that it wouldn't work.

After the initial shock died down, another scene seemed to come over her vision, like a blindfold that she couldn't see past.

The dream.

_There was a foggy gray mist, and she could only see fuzzy shapes through it… But there was someone, a person lying on the floor… Wait, the person looked familiar. _

_She felt worry that wasn't hers shoot through her as a voice seemed to lift above the fog and then came crashing down with the force of a metal plate dropped from a great height. _

"_Merlin!"_

_Was that her speaking? Surely not. _

"_Merlin, I need you to help me!"_

_But it was her voice…_

"_Merlin, come find me, I need you to help me!"_

_Another voice answered, and this one seemed to come from her body although it wasn't her voice. "Xyla? Xyla, where are you? I'll help you, I just need to find you! Xyla, where are you?"_

_Was that Merlin's voice? By all things holy, it was!_

"_Merlin, why aren't you coming? Why aren't you trying to help me?"_

_The voice that sounded like hers was fading into the mist again, just like it had the nights before… And he responded the same way. _

"_Xyla, don't go! Stay, so I can find you! Xyla!"_

_She didn't answer._

"XYLA_!"_

* * *

><p>In Camelot, a strangled cry was torn from Merlin's throat as he sat up in bed, eyes wild, covered in sweat, his chest heaving in panic.<p>

"Xyla, I'm sorry!"

* * *

><p><em>AN: So sorry I'm late! Easter weekend, you know. Please review this chapter and I'll try to get the next chapter up on time!_


	4. 3: Slip Up

**UNBETA'D. I'm so sorry, DarkAngel2112, but I just couldn't be late with this chapter after I was so late with last chapter :) Sorry! I want to post a chapter a weekend. So, readers, I apologize for any mistakes.**

**Chapter Three**

* * *

><p>Xyla was angry.<p>

Well, Xyla had been angry since she'd been captured a few days ago. One could even argue that she'd been mad since her family was killed by Uther all those years ago. But today, once her headache had faded, she was angrier than usual.

She'd sat through the headache in a kind of a daze, wishing inwardly that she could just kill Morgana and be done with it. She'd "woken up" from the daze with a sick feeling in her stomach that she couldn't quite understand.

Then she remembered the last thought she'd had as Merlin's nightmare faded from her mind, that feeling of panic and sorrow that wasn't hers, and the sick feeling increased.

She was _guilty_. All these nightmares… The sisters may have thought that he would try and find out where the dreams were coming from, but Xyla knew he wouldn't suspect that the dreams were from the actual Xyla. But they had to be ruining his sleep, probably driving him up the wall and sending him into a tizzy of anxiety.

As usual when she was thinking about Merlin, Xyla's hand reached up instinctively to grab her neckerchief, but she'd forgotten that it wasn't there.

_Right. Morgause. Morgause and her magic-sucking, obnoxious spell-casting. _She'd taken Xyla's neckerchief.

And that's when Xyla got mad. It was like boiling water had been inside of her, simmering and growing ever hotter, and suddenly the bubbles at the top began popping.

"Morgana!" she shouted, breathing hard. Her arms pulled pointlessly at the chains. It hurt her already sore wrists, but she just couldn't seem to care right now. "Morgana! Morgause! I know you can hear me!"

There was no answer, so she called again, louder: "_Mor-gana_!"

Outside, Morgana and Morgause paused in their sisterly plotting, identical annoyed expressions plastered on their faces.

"MORGANA!"

Morgana closed her eyes briefly, then looked at Morgause as though for permission. Morgause gave her a "be my guest" gesture, and Morgana stalked off towards the door of the dungeon.

"I don't suppose you could be a little quieter?" she asked as she leaned against the now-open doorway, having brushed aside one of Cenred's old guards, most of whom now answered to Morgause.

"Oh, why, do you have a headache or something?" shot back Xyla, too furious to care that her comeback left much to be desired.

Morgana's gloating, trademark smirk made an appearance. "I assumed you had something interesting to say, but I can leave if I was wrong."

"I want the neckerchief back," said Xyla.

Morgana's sneer turned into a full grin. "I'm afraid we can't. That would mess up the spell."

"I want it back! This whole thing is…_ stupid_." She jerked against the chains again, feeling that the word didn't express her discontent suitably.

Morgana shook her head, her dark waves of hair splashing and bouncing across her shoulders. "Perhaps," she said, "when Merlin comes, he'll let you have his."

"Never, then?" snapped Xyla unthinkingly. "As if he'd fall for such pathetic, childish dreams!"

Silence spread through the room like blood seeping into water, clouding and growing until it filled the whole thing. Xyla felt the anger bleed right out of her, replaced with shock.

_Oh, hell. _

Perhaps, she thought hopefully, Morgana hadn't noticed… But no, the concerned, thoughtful crease of the witch's brows gave her away.

Xyla finally said it aloud. "_Hell_." She really needed a better curse word.

Triumph crossed Morgana's pale face. "Morgause!" she practically squealed. (_Like a stuck pig, _Xyla thought.)

Slipping out of the room and closing the door, Morgana ran to her sister, leaving Xyla to moan and sink lower against the stone wall. She'd really done it this time. No doubt they would put together what she'd said and what they already knew about her, and then they'd realize how to get Merlin out of Camelot: with plain speaking.

No doubt they'd want to put this new knowledge to use immediately after it got dark.

"Merlin," she said to the absent man. "We're doomed."

* * *

><p>Annoyed by Merlin's refusal to talk, Arthur kept him working late the next day, despite the fact that Merlin looked exhausted.<p>

"My chambers are a mess," he explained.

"I cleaned them yesterday!" protested Merlin, who was fighting a sudden wave of exhaustion. It had come out of nowhere, trying to force him to close his eyes.

"They're a mess again today. I wonder how that happened?"

Thus, Merlin decided that he rather hated his master occasionally. "Fine," he grumbled.

Arthur watched with only the barest flicker of pity as Merlin moved around his chambers, his eyes blinking rapidly. Merlin kept rubbing them, keeping gthem from closing. Arthur remembered Merlin's excuse of being 'tired'.

Well, that would teach him to lie to the prince.

And suddenly, as Merlin reached down to pick up a pillow, his whole body went boneless. His eyes snapped shut, and he collapsed in a heap. He made a loud _thud_ as he hit the ground.

Arthur's heart immediately leapt into his throat, sending him across the room and at Merlin's side.

"Merlin? Merlin, wake up! Merlin!" The still body did not respond, so Arthur flipped him over as gently as he could, noting with some relief that he was breathing normally.

He shook Merlin to no avail. His face looked curiously pale. His eyelids twitched, but he didn't look ready to awake.

Arthur's heart sank. Was Merlin sick and never told him? When another minute of shaking didn't wake the manservant, Arthur sighed.

"Alright," he said, quickly crossing the room and throwing his door open, then coming right back as though drawn to the ailing servant. "Enough of this… Let's get you down to Gaius's."

Slipping his arms under the troublesome man's neck and knees, Arthur grunted with effort as he lifted the manservant.

"You know," he commented, "I have a feeling we've been here before."

Merlin's dead weight in his arms concurred. At least there was no poison this time.

He made his way out the door and down the hall, passing a guard who looked at him funny, but he waved the man off. Then he saw someone who wasn't as easy to send away.

"Merlin!" gasped Guinevere. "Arthur, what happened?"

"I'm not sure; he just collapsed."

She tsked worriedly under her breath. "Is he…?"

"He's breathing fine. Maybe he's sick."

She nodded. "I'll meet you at Gaius's… He's bound to need some fresh water." Smiling a little ironically, she added, "He always does in these situations." Then she rushed off, her lavender skirt flaring behind her.

Arthur kept moving down the hall, shooting a glare at the man in his arms. "See? You worried Guinevere."

He finally made it to the physician's chambers, still holding the unresponsive Merlin, sending Gaius into a very organized panic.

"Put him down," ordered the elderly man. "What happened?"

Arthur put Merlin down on the patient's bed, grunting again. He repeated to Gaius what he told Gwen. Gaius looked at Merlin, who wasn't moving at all, but a strange expression kept coming across the servant's face… Confusion? Pain?

"He looks like he's just sleeping," said Gaius.

Arthur watched him take the young man's pulse with worry. What if it was serious? What if he was sick or hurt? What had caused him to pass out anyway?

Gaius's brow furrowed in puzzlement, and he rushed over to his books to do his all-important research, muttering aloud to himself. "What could it be?"

_Great,_ Arthur thought sarcastically. Gaius hadn't a clue what he was doing. Arthur had always been under the impression that Gaius knew everything. How was it possible that he didn't know what had caused Merlin to just collaspe, with absolutely no warning.

_Was this what Merlin had been keeping from him?_ He pondered it again.

Merlin woke up. Just like that, with as little warning as he'd given before he passed out. The man just suddenly gasped in his sleep, giving a small cry, and sat up, nearly catapulting himself off the patient's bed. His eyes flew open, their bright blue wild with alarm.

"Arthur!" he cried before he even had the chance to look around or gather his bearings. "I have to leave."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Did this chapter come across as a bit silly to anyone? Hm..._


	5. 4: Sensible Nightmare

_A/N: Because finals are coming up and it's a busy weekend, this chapter will be a little short. I might not even get a chapter up next weekend and the one after that is smack-dab in the middle of my finals (not my idea), but after that, it will be summer, and I will be back full-force. And a million thanks to my beta, DarkAngel2112, who got this back to me really fast!_

_That being said, reviews are always appreciated anyway, you know?_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four <strong>

One second, he was fighting off the exhaustion, picking up for Arthur, and the next he was in the midst of a nightmare. At least he assumed that's what it was; it started off the same as the others.

_It took place in the same foggy, gray place as before. He couldn't see more than two feet in front of him, and that was all colorless murk anyway. _

_And then he heard her voice, as always. But this time it was missing the panic, as calm and dry she had been when he knew her._

"_Merlin?"_

_His heard jerked up, and he looked around, desperately trying to see her. Was she out there in the mist? _

"_Merlin."_

"_Xyla?"_

"_Yes, it's me. Well, sort of."_

_He wished he could see her. "Where are you?"_

"_You won't be able to see me, Merlin. It's not that kind of nightmare."_

_Nightmare? Nothing particularly scary had happened yet. Which made him wonder… Raising his voice, so as to be clearly heard, he called, "Why is this one different from the rest of the dreams? Why do you sound more like Xyla?"_

"_I sound like her because I'm a voice from inside her head, magically pushed into yours. This one's different because Morgause and Morgana realized that you weren't getting the hint, and you would only listen to what I had to say if I spoke the same way I usually do."_

_He wasn't sure how to answer that at first, but at last he said, "Morgause and Morgana? I don't understand. What do they have to do with anything?"_

"_Merlin, I don't have time to explain everything. I met them a few days ago, and when they learned that I knew you, they thought they could get you through me. That's why they're sending dreams to you through me."_

_That didn't sound good. Worry blossomed in his heart like the dangerous Morteous flower, growing in the dark. _

"_What do they want with me?" Why not Arthur? Merlin knew they hated him, but surely they didn't have time for some petty revenge. _

"_Come get me." _

_Which wasn't really an answer. Did they want revenge? A way to get Arthur? _

_Or did they _know?

_Did they really have Xyla? _

Yes, _he knew they did. He could feel her through the fog, though he couldn't see her. Xyla. _

"_Where are you?"_

"_The Castle of Fyrien. They suggest you hurry."_

And before he could so much as say 'You've got to be kidding me', he was grabbed and thrown unceremoniously out of what was unquestionably a nightmare and tossed into reality.

* * *

><p>Once he was quite sure that Merlin was fully awake, Arthur thought he was kidding. Once he was assured that Merlin was serious, he made sure he was sane.<p>

And when Arthur was positive that Merlin meant what he said, he refused.

"Merlin, you just passed out in my chambers. You're obviously sick and need to rest for a few days."

"Arthur, please—a vacation. Just for a few days," said Merlin, struggling to get up. Gaius and Arthur held him down. "It's important."

Arthur did not look like the importance impressed him in the slightest. "It can wait. If you didn't have to leave before you fell ill, you don't have to now."

Merlin rolled his eyes and looked like he wanted to protest.

"If you go off on your own and die because you're sick, _Mer_lin, who will clean my chambers?"

Chewing his lip, Merlin shot Gaius and Gwen (who had come in with the water) a look, hoping for help. "Really, it's_ important_."

Gaius raised his eyebrow, thinking that this must have something to do with destiny or something like it. With Merlin, it usually did.

Merlin wasn't worried about destiny at the moment, though. He was worried about Xyla.

Arthur shook his head. "Merlin, I'm sure Gaius agrees with me. You're sick."

"I'm _not_ sick—"

"Then why did you collapse?"

Merlin tried not to curse. He paused, pushed Arthur's and Gaius's hands away, and leaned back down again. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his face with his hands for a second, taking a deep breath.

"Okay, Arthur," he said slowly, nodding. "I'll rest until Gaius decides I'm well and can get up. And then…?"

"We'll see about this 'important vacation'," finished Arthur, nodding. He felt his body relax now that Merlin seemed to be cooperating. The manservant had really worried him for a second, though he wasn't going to tell Merlin that; no need to give him material for taunting the prince.

Merlin gave him a smile, his blue eyes practically screaming 'trust me; I'm being honest'.

No matter what Gaius said to the plan, Merlin was sneaking out of Camelot tonight.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I know, I said it was short. But please review. _


	6. 5: Plans

_A/N: Thanks to my beta, DarkAngel2112, as always. Also thanks to PoisoningPigeonsinthePark (did that show up?), who also helped me with this chapter's grammar. I know I abandoned you all for longer than was fair, but finals ate my free time. Now they are over, and so I made it a long(er) chapter as a reward for your patience. Thanks, and please review. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

"You're going to rescue _who_?" Gaius's eyebrow would be at the height of the castle's towers now if it wasn't attached to his face.

Merlin paused in the midst of his packing, looking over at Gaius, who was in the doorway of the warlock's room. "Xyla," he said.

Gaius's face was blank.

"You probably don't remember her," Merlin said with a shrug, tossing another neckerchief into his small bag. You never knew when an extra would come in handy. "She… uh, she tried to kill Uther about…" – here he stopped and glanced at his dark window, trying to remember – "a year ago."

"And you're going to rescue her."

"Yes," agreed Merlin almost eagerly, giving his guardian a small smile. "I had this dream—"

"A dream?"

"Not exactly a dream… More like a message. Sent through a dream. By magic."

Gaius looked doubtful. "Whose magic, Merlin?"

"Uh… Morgana and Morgause's. From what I could tell…"

"Merlin!" admonished the physician. "This has to be a trap! Any message from Morgause or Morgana..." He stood up as straight as his old back would let him, an alarmed expression on his craggy face.

Merlin gave him a strange look. "Of course it is. But what does it matter? I can't just _not_ go; she needs my help."

Gaius came forward, taking Merlin's shoulders in his hands and forcing him to stop packing so their eyes could meet. Gaius studied his features as though searching for a lie or joke. "Merlin," he said again, slowly. "You could get _killed _if you do what Morgana wants you to."

Merlin grinned crookedly. "I haven't been yet, have I? Besides, I'll be careful—I promise, Gaius. I'll probably be back in a few days. How long did it take us to get to the Castle of Fyrien last time? Maybe I should ask Elyan if he knows anything…"

He stepped away from Gaius, ignoring the way the old man was eyeing him with concern, and went back to looking around his room for anything else that could be of use on a trip, occasionally tossing things onto his bed.

"What about Arthur?" asked Gaius.

Merlin's eyes flickered in his direction. "I don't think he'll get himself killed if I'm just gone for a few days, do you? I'm sure if he wants to do something too dangerous, Gwaine will ask Percival to sit on him."

"That's not what I meant. He's explicitly forbidden you from going anywhere."

"Since when have I ever listened to him about something this important? Can you cover for me, Gaius? Just… tell him that I'm recovering or something… I'll deal with his temper tantrum when I get back."

Gaius sighed, wishing he didn't feel so nervous about Merlin leaving his sight. The boy was sure to get himself in trouble. He always did, but luckily he was usually powerful enough to get himself back out again. Usually.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Merlin. Be careful."

"Thanks, Gaius. Is that everything? Alright, I'd best be headed to the stables… Maybe I'll pass Gwaine in the tavern on the way there…" With a cheerful, rushed-looking smile in his guardian's direction, Merlin scooped up his small pack and slung it over his shoulder, slipping out of the room and through Gaius's cluttered chambers.

He dwelled on Xyla a bit as he walked out of the door, wondering if she'd changed at all in a year. Surely she had—he knew that he didn't look or act exactly the same.

_I wonder if she'll still be the girl I was falling in love with._

Merlin smiled a little, remembering the brown-haired girl who'd "saved" him from a monster, and then lied through her teeth and told him that she was going to get a job. It would be nice to see her again.

Wouldn't it?

He strolled through the dark streets, making sure to avoid anyone he knew, especially the knights or Guinevere. No one that might tell Arthur they saw him.

_Maybe it won't be so great, actually,_ he couldn't help thinking. A small knot of guilt sat in his stomach. A flash of a memory crossed his mind's eye—_fire whirling through the air, a scream, dead eyes, burnt brown hair a little like Xyla's…_

He shook it off. He wouldn't remember that when he saw Xyla. He just wouldn't let himself.

He checked in the rowdy tavern, the barkeep waving to him when he popped his head in.

"Looking for Sir Gwaine?" the man asked.

Merlin nodded with a smile.

"Sorry, not here. He was by for just a minute this afternoon, but he bought some ale and moved on. If you see him, Merlin, tell him he owes me a lot of money."

"I'll tell him, Tom, thanks."

The barkeep nodded and went back to waiting on customers. Merlin wondered where Gwaine could've gone with that alcohol as he made his way to the stables, finding this train of thought much more pleasant than his previous one. Gwaine was probably getting into trouble this minute… Tomorrow morning would probably find Arthur berating the knight or saving his life from somebody who wanted to commit justified murder.

As it turned out, Gwaine had gone to the stables.

"Gwaine!" Merlin called out in surprise as he opened the door to the stables, finding his friend.

"Hello, Merlin," said Gwaine, who was surprisingly sober. "What are you doing with that pack?"

"Uh…"

"Running away?" asked Gwaine, chipper, looking around the stables for something. Merlin wondered if maybe he wasn't sober after all.

"Rescue mission," said Merlin. "But you can't tell Arthur."

Gwaine shot him a sharp look. Definitely sober. "Dangerous? You need help?"

"Shouldn't be. Just an old friend… Her name's Xyla."

To his surprise, Gwaine laughed, switching the hand with which he was holding a very large bottle of alcohol. "Brown hair, brown eyes? Pretty, speaks in a voice like she has a joke you're missing out on, bubbly kind of woman?"

"You know her?" Gwaine had met everybody!

"Met her in a tavern… Maybe eight months ago. Pretty woman. I offered to buy her a drink… or a few."

Merlin felt a brief flash of jealousy. And as it was Gwaine he was talking to, his worry was not at all unfounded.

"…Not very friendly to me," continued Gwaine with a shrug.

Merlin nearly sagged in relief. "That's the Xyla. She needs a bit of help."

"Hey, weren't you supposed to rest for a few days? Arthur said you were sick." Gwaine gave a small smile and continued to walk around the stables, looking in nooks and crannies. "You don't look sick."

Merlin closed the door to the stables, heading towards the horse he was taking. "Well, what Arthur doesn't know won't hurt him… Gwaine, what are you looking for? All you'll find in those spots is horse dung."

"I'm looking for someplace clean to stash this." Gwaine gestured at the large jug.

Merlin wondered if he would regret asking even as a smile pulled at his face. "Why?"

"For Lancelot's daring escape. I'm bringing the ale."

* * *

><p>Xyla chewed on her lip, brushing her hair out of her face with much clanking. Her headaches were easing sooner and sooner… Though perhaps that was just because that last dream was much less exhausting than the others. She'd gotten to use her own personality, if not her own words. Actually, that didn't make much sense. But then, neither did people sending creepy dreams through other people.<p>

Despite the fact that her head didn't hurt, her stomach ached with something that she accurately placed as guilt.

_Blast it. Now Merlin's walking right into a trap._

Because of course he was coming. Of course Merlin would drop everything to save someone; if he would tackle an intruder to save a cruel king, then he would be coming after her. Probably alone. Did the dream tell him to come alone?

She couldn't remember, but even if _it_ hadn't, who would he tell? In Camelot, there were only so many people that you could explain this situation to without getting thrown into some dungeon.

So Merlin would be coming alone.

He would get himself killed, she was sure of it. He needed help. But who would he trust enough for that?

Xyla remembered a blond prince that Merlin had seemed so fond of. She hadn't seen Arthur very much; she just remembered brief moments. The man yelling at his manservant, Merlin's face twisting in pain as he thought of Arthur dying, the prince walking in on Merlin and Xyla kissing… Merlin had seemed to trust him, but he was a child of Uther's. He didn't even know about Merlin's magic, so Merlin surely wouldn't ask for his help.

But if he knew that Merlin was going on a dangerous mission alone, would he try to help?

Probably. If he didn't know about the magic. If he just knew about the rescue part. How could anyone not want to help Merlin, really?

Xyla sat on the idea for what felt like hours, pushing it out of her mind time and time again. That was a ridiculous idea.

Yet she couldn't help but grow attached to it. Merlin needed help; she knew that. And a man with a sword and years of training would be the help he needed… Even if Xyla did hate him. It was a shame that Merlin probably wouldn't ask for any help.

If the prince didn't know of his manservant's plan, then he would probably be sleeping now. She judged by the length of time since the last dream was sent, which she assumed was night.

_Wait a moment. _

_No, no, I'm not doing that. That's a very bad idea. Really. _

She thought of Merlin, setting off on a dangerous trip all alone.

_It probably won't even work. I'm too weak, I haven't even enough power to get out of here—since Morgana and Morgause tied my magic to that stupid neckerchief and took it away. _

But she had the magic to send dreams even without the use of most of her powers, right? After all, she could send dreams to Merlin… With the witches' help, sure, but…

_The prince of Camelot isn't magic. It probably won't work._

What if they killed Merlin and it was all her fault?

_Besides, what if I let too much slip and just land Merlin in trouble for being a warlock? _

But in the end, the image in her head of Merlin being killed was too much. The more reckless side of her – she really hated that side – won out.

She prepared herself for a monster headache and possible failure, telling herself to be ready for complete repulsion at being too near the mind of someone she hated.

_One vague and ominous dream, coming up. _

Xyla sat up straighter against the hard, stone wall, and cleared her throat, keeping her voice low in case Morgana or Morgause was nearby.

"_Anfonwch hyn yn freuddwyd i Arthur."_

The dream fell over her eyes like a blindfold again.

* * *

><p>In his bed, sleeping, Prince Arthur's smooth face suddenly crinkled as though he was listening hard to someone calling his name, and his bare chest rose and fell at a faster rhythm.<p> 


	7. 6: Liar

**Chapter Six**

Bad dreams made Arthur nervous. Enemy armies and fire-breathing monsters barely affected him – at least outwardly – but _nightmares_, horrors designed by his own mind specifically to get past all of his defenses, could send him into a cyclone of fear. It perhaps made sense, considering the fact that he'd grown up with Morgana, whose nightmares sometimes sent her flying down the steps, screaming out warnings like a batty old woman, completely ignored…

Despite how often those warnings came to pass.

And then the woman who had been besieged by terrors in the night betrayed them.

Yes, Arthur hated bad dreams.

So when he found himself in what he could only assume to be one, he tried to escape, but to no avail.

_The fog surrounded him like a cocoon, keeping the real world from him no matter how he tried to push past. All seemed peaceful—it always did, until something jumped out of the smoky surroundings and attacked. Arthur tried to stay alert, glancing around and on the lookout for danger. _

What was that?

"_Merlin."_

_Did someone just say his manservant's name? No, there was no sound… Yet Arthur had thought of Merlin, almost seen his face. It was as thought the curtain of the mist had fluttered just for a brief second, showing Merlin standing on the other side. _

_So this nightmare was going to be about Merlin? He didn't recall if he'd ever had one of those before. _

"_Trouble."_

_Another word that wasn't spoken, but still seemed to press on his eardrums. Images flickered in Arthur's mind; memories he remembered well. Merlin declaring himself a sorcerer, Merlin drinking poison, a monster attacking, a group of angry thugs. _Merlin, you idiot_, he could see himself saying. _

"_Lies."_

_The curtain flickered some more. Merlin hiding his tears. Merlin insisting nothing was wrong even though dark clouds seemed to hover above him. Merlin collapsing in his room, passed out. _Arthur, I need to tell you, I want to say… never mind.

_Dream-Arthur furrowed his brow. What were the not-words about? If this was a nightmare, where was the monster, the carnage? _

"_Merlin. Trouble. Lies."_

_What?_

"_Needs help."_

_More memories in the place of the words that he could've sworn had been spoken… Though there was still no sound. Merlin leaving for Ealdor. Arthur "alone" on his quest. Arthur asking his friend to lie to the king for him. _

_He still didn't get it, but the gray covering was pressing in on him and he didn't like it. He was just beginning to feel claustrophobic and forget all about the flashbacks when he felt some strange emotion hit him. It wasn't his feelings, not his emotion, but he could place it easily; irritation, pointed at the prince. It didn't really have words or gestures, but if he had to assign some to the wave of feeling, he'd say it went with fingernails tapping impatiently against a surface and a voice barking, "Come on! Think!" _

"_Put it together."_

_Right. Merlin was in trouble in this nightmare. Was that all? Wasn't he usually? How was that significant? _

_Another wave, this one carrying a different type of exasperation. He thought of a mother ordering her son to stop being difficult and cooperate. _

_He was getting a little annoyed by this dream. It didn't make sense. If Merlin was in trouble within the nightmare, then where was he? He couldn't just _NOT_ be there. That didn't follow the rules of dreams. _

_Now, if it were real life, he could be wherever…_

But it isn't real. Right?

_More annoyance that wasn't his. A little like a friend giving a shove and barking, "Just go check on him!"_

Arthur awoke.

* * *

><p>Xyla was snapped out of her shared dream with the suddenness of a slingshot releasing. She hadn't the time to process the fact that her head ached like it had been bashed against a wall or the realization that close contact with the mind of her hated enemy hadn't been so bad, if a bit vexing. She hadn't the time because she immediately passed out.<p>

As she faded, she wondered if it even worked.

* * *

><p>Dreams did not reflect what happened in real life. They simply did not work that way, and Arthur wasn't about to believe otherwise.<p>

No. Just _no_. Dreams, even ones comprised entirely of memories, were not sufficient reasons to get out of his perfectly warm bed in the middle of the night.

Arthur tossed off the covers, gasping as the chilly air crashed against his torso. He ignored the shudder that went through him and stood up.

Besides, just because Morgana's dreams were – dare he think it? – prophetic, and just because Merlin had given in much too easily to being denied his so-called "important" vacation, that didn't mean that the manservant needed to be checked upon. It didn't mean that Merlin's silly idea was important, not at all. Because it was highly unlikely that it was so critical for Merlin to go.

Arthur crossed the room in two hurried steps, grabbing his shirt from a drawer and slipping it over his head. Now where was his sword? Ah—in the corner. He began to fumble with the belt.

_After all,_ insisted the side of his mind that he had christened his Father-voice, _checking on a servant in the middle of the night was hardly appropriate. _Trust Father-voice to come up with the most prat-like reasons.

Then, without knowing why – but it had something to do with the not-words "Needs help" – he grabbed up his saddlebags, tossed into the corner of the room where they should not be, and stuffed some coins and a change of clothes into it. His actions made no sense, he decided, but was in too much of a dream-induced daze to think it through.

Arthur then spared a moment to wish he could put on armor or chainmail single-handedly and that he wasn't in such of a hurry. Thinking of food, he grabbed his bow. Still informing himself that only an idiot would even consider doing the bidding of a dream, Arthur slipped out of his room and down the hall.

The castle looked very different at night, Arthur decided after a while. Without the sun pouring in windows, everything looked blue-tinted and lifeless, and it was so silent that Arthur could almost think he'd gone deaf. Luckily he could hear his own feet gently touching the ground as he walked, and so knew he hadn't.

_There should be some guards keeping watch around here. _

Arthur made a mental note to see to it. Other than a few guards, which he saw out a window or as they passed by in a neighboring hall, he hadn't seen any of Camelot's men. It wouldn't be hard to sneak into the prince's room at all, be the night visitor a sorcerer or a dangerous criminal. Was it this easy to get to the King's room? Arthur would have to check sometime. In the King's state, he wouldn't be able to fight off a threat. He was more likely to freeze up or disintegrate under the pressure.

A guard caught sight of him – finally – but upon realizing the man wondering about was the prince, the guard just nodded and stepped back.

Okay, so maybe the average murderer would run into a spot of trouble making this trek. A sorcerer would have none.

After a bit, Arthur found himself in the courtyard—somehow a very short distance from his most irresponsible knight, Sir Gwaine. Remembering the guard, Arthur stepped forward and called his friend's name.

"Gwaine!" he hissed.

Gwaine grinned and walked over to Arthur, brushing his hair from his face like he always did. "Ah! Arthur."

"What are you up to, Gwaine?"

"Me? Nothing. Not yet, anyway… Are you going on a trip, too?" He gestured towards the saddlebags.

"'Too'?" On a hunch, Arthur asked, "Does that mean you've seen Merlin tonight?"

Gwaine grinned _again, _but then Gwaine usually was grinning. It didn't really mean anything. "I might've seen him, but I was busy today. Why?"

Arthur sighed. "Because if he's not staying in his room like I ordered him to, then whatever he's doing is probably stupid and liable to get him hurt. He's ill and I told him to stay put, but he won't listen to me." His eyebrows drew together. "_Mer_lin never does."

Gwaine regarded Arthur for a moment before he spoke, something like curiosity on his face. "Maybe he has good reasons for not listening sometimes? You never really know what Merlin's up to. He's a secretive one, sneaky." The way he said the words made them sound more fond than insulting.

"Yes, he is," Arthur agreed. "And it gets him into trouble. If he would just ask for help…"

Gwaine shook his head. "You've known him longer than I have, of course, but he doesn't really strike me as the kind to ask for help for himself, just others." In the dark, Arthur could see Gwaine shift his weight and shoot a look towards the stables, but thought nothing of it.

"No, he's not." Gwaine seemed to know Merlin pretty well, Arthur thought. "And it lands him everywhere from poisoned to arrested." Arthur suddenly realized that he had been standing around talking for too long, and couldn't believe he'd let Gwaine side track him. "I'm going to check on Merlin."

He turned towards the physician's chambers, but Gwaine called him back.

"Hey, Princess."

Arthur looked over his shoulder. Gwaine was still standing there, looking surprised, like he was digesting new information. The knowledge that Arthur knew Merlin was a trouble magnet and wanted to help (in his own, Arthur-like way) shocked the knight more than it should have. But then Gwaine really hadn't been around all that long, and it wasn't like anyone could have told him. It was one of those things that everyone left unspoken, because it was better that way.

"What is it? I'm in a hurry."

"You know Merlin's my favorite, so if he asked me not to tell you something, I wouldn't," Gwaine said slowly, uncharacteristically solemn despite the teasing in his words. "But I think you may have a point about him sometimes needing help." His face split into that white smile again and he pointed, very precisely, towards the stables, raising his eyebrows.

Ignoring Gwaine's admission that he would listen to a servant over his prince, Arthur said, "Thanks. And Gwaine?"

"Sire?" He made the word even more insolent than Merlin managed to.

"If my father wants to know where I've gone, and I can't be found… Then I went on a hunting trip."

"Without asking first?"

"Yes."

Ever since Morgana's attack on Camelot, Uther had been easier to handle and more tractable than usual. It was sad for Arthur to see his once strong father falling apart like he was, but the prince knew that it wouldn't be hard to convince him any trip that Arthur might leave on tonight – all for his stupid servant – was just an impromptu hunting trip.

Arthur changed his direction and started for the stables.

* * *

><p>Merlin was still chuckling when Gwaine left, having been told all about Lancelot's plan to escape for a few days until he was healed. Gaius would be furious, and if the plan went wrong, several of the knights could end up in a cell, or worse, on the receiving end of an angry Arthur's lecture. And training would inevitably become instantly brutal.<p>

Arthur would certainly have his hands full. Merlin was just sorry he wouldn't be able to see it.

Smiling fondly, Merlin began to saddle the horse he always rode. "We're going on a bit of a quest," he told it. "We're going to save a damsel in distress. Just don't tell her I called her that. It's going to be… an interesting trip."

A creak shut him up, and Merlin's head jerked upwards to meet the sight of Arthur entering the stables, saddlebags slung over his shoulder.

Merlin froze, eyes wide. _Oh, hell. _

Arthur raised his eyebrows at his manservant. "Going somewhere, Merlin?"

Merlin blanched. "Just… for a bit of a walk."

"Really?"

"Yes… I wasn't feeling well… and my room was so stuffy. So I went… for a walk. Yes—"

"Gwaine pointed me here."

"I can explain."

"You'd just lie anyway. Don't bother." Arthur studied Merlin for a second, shutting the door behind him. He sighed; he was doing that a lot tonight. "Usually right now I'd drag you back to Gaius's…"

Merlin bit his lip. No, he _had_ to save Xyla, and Arthur couldn't get in his way! "Arthur, _please_…"

Arthur held up a hand to stop him. "But whatever it is you're doing – you said something about a damsel in distress? – seems to be very important to you, because you are completely disregarding your orders and don't seem to want to tell me anything about it. So Merlin, I'm going to trust you" – Merlin bit back a quip about there being a first time for everything – "and do the next best thing, after forcibly knocking you out, that is." Arthur put his hand on his sword and nodded. "I'm going with you."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Writing Arthur's decision was really hard, because I never know if to write the prat-idiot friendship where Merlin gets the short end of the stick, or the friendship like they sometimes have (like in 3.13) where though Arthur picks on him, he really trusts Merlin and sorta-kinda listens to him. I guess you can see which I decided on. So, please review? Last chapter Naisa, DarkAngel2112, Starts with a D, Vegetables, and Dodo123 reviewed, so thanks!_


	8. 7: Memory

**Chapter Seven **

Of course Merlin argued.

"No, Arthur, you can't."

"Merlin, I can do whatever I want; I think you're forgetting that." Smiling slightly, Arthur made his way over to his horse. "I am the prince, after all."

Merlin rolled his eyes and went over to stand in front of Arthur. "No, Arthur, I have to do this on my own."

"You can't do anything on your own."

"I'm not as useless as I look. Trust me, Arthur, if you go on this journey with me, you'll wish you hadn't. You… you won't really approve…"

"Then why are you doing it?" asked Arthur, unperturbed as he began to saddle his horse.

Merlin moaned inwardly. Usually, he was the one who did whatever the heck he wanted while Arthur issued orders that would be ignored. But this time, it was Merlin on a quest with a fight on his hands, and the roles were reversed.

But there was magic involved. Arthur _couldn't_ come. What would he think when he discovered Merlin was off to rescue a _sihirli kisi, _born with magic and raised with a lifestyle practically soaked in sorcery? Merlin shuddered at the very thought. The things Arthur could find out on this trip... All things that would get Merlin in some deep trouble. Besides, if Arthur was along, then Merlin couldn't use magic to save Xyla.

"I have to, Arthur, but I have to_ alone_."

"_Mer_lin…"

"What?"

"You're an idiot. And while you've been talking, I've been getting ready. Now I'm waiting on you."

Merlin stared at him for a second. What could he say to get Arthur to stay here? That he would more than likely get killed on this fool's errand?

Mind darting back to the time with the dragon, Merlin knew that the fact that they would probably be killed might not keep Arthur away.

Blasted stupid prat of a prince. "I should've had Gwaine sit on him," he muttered to himself.

"Merlin," said Arthur, disrupting the silence, "if you keep arguing, I'll change my mind and drag you back to Gaius's."

Pausing abruptly, Merlin snapped his mouth shut (he'd been opening it to argue), and walked over to his horse. "Fine," he said. "Suit yourself. But what about your father?"

Arthur shook his head. "Gwaine's got it."

"That's what I said about you."

But they didn't argue about it anymore.

Within minutes, the two men were riding out of Camelot (the guards barely twitched) on a servant's quest. The thought amused Merlin. _The great secret warlock, Merlin, and his trusty prince, Arthur. _

Chuckling, he turned to Arthur. "Do you remember the way to the Castle of Fyrien?"

Arthur blinked at him in some surprise. "Where Cenred held Elyan? I remember."

"Good, me too. That's where we're going."

"_What?_ Why?"

Merlin shot him a look. "You said you wouldn't ask." _Oh, you know, to face down your half-sister and her sister and rescue the magic woman who tried to kill your father. _Like he was going to say that. Trusty prince or no, Arthur would kill him.

Arthur put his hands up in surrender. "Alright, I'll find out later, then."

_I hope not. _

But Merlin decided, as he'd been doing a lot lately, to worry about what Arthur might find out later. Around the same time he would begin worrying about the fact that this quest could end in his death.

Merlin patted his horse's neck absentmindedly, and the prince and servant started off into the woods towards the castle where they had been captured. Merlin knew the secret passages would be useless now, but maybe, if he could distract Arthur, he could use magic to get in and save Xyla. Or maybe he could give Arthur a sword, point him in the right direction, and help him defeat Morgause and Morgana from the sidelines.

He would worry about it later.

* * *

><p>"She was passed out? Why?"<p>

"I don't know, Morgause. That's just what I saw. She's awake now, and ready for us to try another dream in case Merlin didn't get the message from the last one."

"Give her more food, in case that's the problem. She has to stay alive you know, Sister, or Merlin won't come, and we'll never discover what he did to take back Camelot."

"And we're going to use Merlin to catch Arthur after we find that out, right, Morgause?"

"That is the plan."

"I'll have someone do that at once, then."

"But it's more likely that she tried to use magic to escape, and doubtless discovered that she can't do anything without her neckerchief."

"Stupid looking thing," mumbled Morgana, casting it a distrustful look, as though it would leap from her sister's hand and attack her.

"Indeed, Sister."

* * *

><p>They finally decided to stop for the night, and Arthur volunteered to take first watch. Well, "volunteered" meaning that Merlin immediately took out his roll and lay down on it, telling the prince that he hadn't sleep at all yet. He didn't say a thing about setting a watch, and so Arthur knew that he would simply have to do it himself for now.<p>

Merlin turned so Arthur couldn't see his face, not really planning on sleeping if he could help it. Of course, a dream might come and knock him out, but he wasn't sure if Morgana and Morgause knew he was coming already. He hoped not… That would take away the element of surprise that he would like to have when he reached the castle.

_At least the dreams aren't about what I thought they were. _

_Well, not that Xyla in danger is any better… It just feels better, but it's not. _

Merlin wondered to himself what it would be like to see Xyla again after a year. Would she like him, still? She might not like how he'd changed, and he_ had_ changed. Merlin knew that Xyla thought he was the good guy.

And he _was_ still the good guy. It just didn't always feel like it.

Truthfully, he was quite nervous about seeing Xyla again. He just wasn't sure how he'd be able to face her after what happened last week when the sorceress attacked…

Soon, he fell asleep. First he had the dream (beginning to be routine) where Xyla's voice came to him again. He told her that he got the message, but tried not to admit flat out that he had already left for the Castle of Fyrien. He thought that he rather failed at that.

_I mess everything up. At least I didn't tell Morgana and Morgause about Arthur, _he thought to himself as that dream faded slowly into a more natural (and infinitely more terrifying) one.

_Smoke seemed to linger in the air as Merlin rushed through the streets, determined to follow the knights. They'd ridden out after the sorceress, who had fled into the forest upon seeing them approach. _

_Now the men of Camelot were fighting her when they could barely see her through the trees, and they couldn't get close enough to attack with swords or spears. Meanwhile fireballs and blasts of fire knocked them off their horses and into trees. Merlin had heard their screams, and could place a few. Arthur's, Lancelot's. And there was no telling who had fallen silently. _

_Arthur had told him to stay behind. _

_The thought was laughable. He'd escaped Gwen, Gaius, and the makeshift hospital the minute he could. _

_The trees were on fire. That was the first thing Merlin noticed as he ran onto the scene of the fight. The second thing was that the knights lay pell-mell on the ground, arms and legs sticking out gracelessly. He couldn't tell who was dead and who was alive because at that moment he spotted the sorceress. _

_She wore trousers like a man, but the way she held her head high, brown hair falling across her shoulders… Only a proud woman could pull that off. _

"_One more person to get through?" she said. "Why don't you just run away, boy? I'll be killing the king no matter what you try."_

"_Why are you doing this?" he yelled, looking through the smoke and trying desperately to find Arthur. _

"_Why does anyone try to kill the Pendragons? I watched as Uther killed my family!"_

_There were tears in her eyes, he noticed with half of his mind. Unbidden, the picture of Xyla crying as she confessed that Uther had killed her family and friends came into his mind. _

"_Killing others won't bring them back!" pointed out Merlin, finally spotting his master. Breathing. That was a relief. Just unconscious. _

_Then it started. The speech he'd heard before, the speech about her magic not being evil, but rather Uther Pendragon being the real evil, and all who supported him. The image of Xyla, whom he'd lost to her revenge, was pounded into his head with every word she spoke. He brushed the thought away, but it kept coming back. _

_And then the sorceress shot her power at him, tried to push him out of her way. _

_Merlin blocked it with magic. _

_He'd heard the next speech, too. The one where his opponent couldn't believe he had power. The one where he was blamed for protecting the killer of his kin when he had magic of his own. _

_She'd tried to fight him, but she didn't know that he was the most powerful warlock of legend. _

_He destroyed her. Killed her. Just like that. It took only a few minutes for his own ball of fire to crash into her chest, burning her heart into a cinder in a second. When the flames were gone, she was just a singed corpse with a hole in her chest. Empty eyes, burnt brown hair. _

You killed her. And yet you let Xyla go.

_The accusation in his mind was like a gnat. He wiped at it and it went away, and he quickly doused the trees and then went to wake Arthur and the knights, most of whom were still alive. _

_But the thing about gnats was that they kept coming back. _

Merlin woke up. He was still for a few minutes, his breathing just a tad quicker than was normal. His eyes tried to make out shapes in the darkness, but he wasn't really seeing anything.

Stupid gnat.

He brushed it away again and decided to relieve Arthur and let the prince get some sleep.

As he stood up, he couldn't help reflecting to himself: _She really did look a bit like Xyla. _

* * *

><p><em>AN: Thanks to Dodo123, Naisa, and DarkAngel2112 for reviewing last chapter. Please review. I'll try to update Friday._


	9. 8: SBP Was Here

**Chapter Eight**

When he was at home in his own bed, Arthur slept like a baby. But being out in the open or in a strange place heightened his senses, and he found that sometimes even innocent woodland sounds could wake him up when he was away from home.

That was how Arthur discovered that Merlin very often had troubled sleep, and occasionally even talked through his slumber. At first he'd thought that was vaguely interesting: what did happy, carefree Merlin have to worry about that could make his sleep fitful? Nothing. Nothing at all, as far as Arthur knew. So, Arthur concluded that Merlin was just naturally a restless sleeper, perhaps due to that exasperating endless energy he possessed.

Arthur also made sure not to listen to his unconscious ramblings. He really didn't need to hear Merlin talk _more_. Besides, a man was entitled to keep his dreams private. Actually, the idea of learning what went on in Merlin's dreams could vary from amusing to very, very disturbing and scary… Arthur wouldn't want anyone spying on his dreams.

Tonight he wasn't talking, Arthur noted, other than a few mumbled nonsense words. He was tossing, and Arthur suspected a nightmare instead of just restlessness. Arthur toyed with the idea of waking him up, but at length decided against it. Something was definitely up with Merlin – this impromptu quest proved that – but Arthur had promised not to ask questions. Though the prince pretended to be sure he'd get his way, Arthur was scared that Merlin would try to slip off on his own again if Arthur pried.

Arthur watched Merlin turn in his sleep, a grunt escaping his lips as his face contorted. In the dark, with only the moon's light shining on his face, the effect was quite eerie, and Arthur felt concern bubble up in him. Just as he was beginning to second guess his decision to let Merlin sleep on, the man suddenly quieted. He turned on his side, where Arthur couldn't see his face, but the change in his breathing made Arthur think that he had awoken.

At ease once more, Arthur turned away from Merlin to study the blackness beyond the trees.

Sounds of shifting told Arthur that Merlin was getting up, and the prince turned to face his servant.

"Arthur?" Merlin rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and straightened his shirt. "You get some sleep… I'll, uh, I'll keep watch for a while."

Arthur stood up silently and walked to gather his blanket roll, pretending he didn't see Merlin's grateful look.

* * *

><p>The next morning, they ate some dried meat that Merlin had grabbed from Gaius's chambers. Merlin was tired and quiet, and Arthur was thoughtful and quiet.<p>

The sun was shining quite happily down on them, and birds sang as birds were wont to do.

After a bit, Arthur stood and rubbed his hands on his trousers.

"Merlin," he said after a bit more thought, "I know that I'm not questioning your plan… But am I not questioning it because you won't tell me, or because you don't actually have one?"

Merlin just blinked at him.

"You don't have one, do you?"

"No, I have a plan… Of sorts." Merlin smiled confidently, but it seemed faked. "I'm going to wait until we reach the castle, and then look around to see if it would be easier to sneak past the guards, go through the tunnels, or some other way."

Arthur considered. "I'm going to ask this, because I can't plan a way in unless I know who we're up against… Who has the Castle of Fyrien?"

Merlin smiled awkwardly. "Ah… you don't want to know."

"_Mer_lin…"

"You said you wouldn't ask."

"Why are you so determined not to tell me?"

Merlin opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, and then stopped himself. Arthur considered the wisdom of asking if he had any relatives who were fish.

"Arthur," he said. "You can go home if you want, you know. You don't have to come just because I am… I'd rather it if you did go back, actually."

And that was how Prince Arthur found himself riding towards a place where he'd been a prisoner, following an idiot of a servant, towards unknown enemies. That last part irked him the most; he didn't like not knowing what he was fighting.

"Don't worry," said Merlin from his seat on his horse. "If things go wrong, you'll find out who holds Fyrien soon enough." He didn't add what he was thinking, and that was that he was almost certain things_ would_ go wrong. _But where women are involved, things usually do. _

_I'm on my way, Xyla. _

* * *

><p><strong>AN: A short chapter, I know, but I hope to get us to the castle next chapter… Where things will start going wrong. Thanks to Dodo123, who reviewed last chapter. Please review. **


	10. 9: Awry

_A/N: Thanks to __**Naisa**__, __**Laughy-Taffy the Grape **__(formerly Starts with a D), __**DarkAngel2112**__, __**Dodo123**__, and __**Randomanime456**__ for reviewing last chapter! Here's the next chapter, please enjoy and review. _

_Oh, and… *cough* For those of you wondering about last chapter's title, sorry. My friend ShadowsBloodPain was next to me and really wanted to name it that. So I decided to humor the crazy person. _

**Chapter Nine**

* * *

><p>"The Castle of Fyrien," Arthur said in a whisper, looking up.<p>

Merlin leaned back a little to get a better view of the castle. It was big, scary, and looming in a way that reminded Merlin of Morgause back when she'd had him tied up in the forest. Merlin gave an inadvertent shiver. Not a good memory.

To get here, they'd crossed hilly land onto this piece of land that jutted out into the sea. The whole time, Merlin knew that anyone looking out of a window facing the right direction could see them… Luckily, the castle that had once belonged to a merchant, built to withstand anything, was rather short on windows. All the same, they tried to keep their horses out of sight. Eventually, when the grassy land ended, they'd tied their horses to the last tree around and continued on foot, just like they had done when they rescued Elyan.

Now they were traversing the land on foot to the castle. Merlin doubted anyone could see them now—this part of the land was just rocks. Rocks, rocks, more rocks… It was boring to the eyes to see so much gray, and it hurt the feet too. Piles of rocks. Mountains of rocks. Flat land with cracked rocks.

Very interesting.

Merlin rolled his eyes to himself and kept walking. Arthur was just behind him, and that felt wrong. Merlin's place was to follow a step behind his master, but for this trip, Arthur seemed to be following just behind _Merlin_. It made Merlin, the servant, feel dizzy. He kept looking for Arthur and finding him in the wrong spot. Merlin couldn't help himself: he liked it when Arthur was in charge of the trip, and _he_ was just in charge of the snarky comments.

But this was Merlin's quest.

"You know, you should have at least brought a sword," Arthur said in his ear, and Merlin shrugged.

"Why didn't you bring a spare?"

"I didn't think you would go somewhere so dangerous unarmed, _i_diot!"

Merlin resisted the urge to point out that if Arthur hadn't insisted on tagging along, he _would_ have been armed. But that would lead to awkward questions.

There was a moment of silence while they ducked behind a rock formation – one that Merlin thought looked remarkably like the king's profile – and studied the castle for any approaching guards or sorceresses.

"I don't see anyone," he muttered to himself. "At least we know Cenred's gone, eh?"

"Who should be on guard?" asked Arthur. "Is there even anyone here?"

_Your half sister and her half sister. You know, the evil ones. _Merlin decided, once again, to just purposely avoid telling Arthur the truth. "I'm not sure who would be on guard… But knowing them, it'll be somebody."

"Knowing who?"

"Probably someone big. With a lot of weapons. And those chains."

"Chains? When have you encountered chains?"

Merlin glanced back at him. "Me? Uh, never." He smiled unconvincingly. Arthur looked confused.

Looking at the sky, Merlin muttered, "It will be dark soon." No one would see them as they leisurely strolled up to the castle ruled by the sorceresses. Mostly to himself, Merlin said, "Should we try the front, the side, or the tunnels?"

That was a question of battle strategy: Arthur's specialty. He grew up with that stuff, soaked it up the way Merlin grew up with the warning of "Don't talk about your magic." It was just something that Arthur knew like the back of his hand. So he immediately replied, "Not the front. That's too obvious… Unless the person we're up against is as stupid as… _you_—"

"Thanks for that."

"—They'll guard that well. Not the tunnels either… We nearly got in that way last time. No one will let that happen twice… Assuming the people we're up against know about our last visit?"

"Yeah, they would."

A spark of alarm flew across Arthur's features. "You don't mean that it's…"

"No! No. Not… not her." Okay, now he was flat out lying. Merlin shrugged mentally. Arthur would find out the truth eventually. Merlin would deal with Arthur's inevitable murderous fit later.

"Side, then," said Arthur wisely. "Though the chances of us getting in at all are… Very small. I mean, there are only two of us. I don't have armor on and you aren't armed… And this, _Mer_lin, is why _I_ am usually in charge of our trips."

Merlin ignored him. He was looking at the castle, nodding to himself. "All right," he said slowly. "When it gets dark, side door. Don't look so nervous, Arthur. We can do this."

Arthur laughed in disbelief. _I can't believe I'm on this trip at all. Next time, we take at least Lancelot and Gwaine. No, next time, I lock Merlin up. Yeah, that's better._

Merlin sighed, staring at the castle as though he was trying to see through the walls. _Xyla's in there. We'll get in. We'd better get in. _

* * *

><p>Xyla hit herself on the head. It didn't make it feel better, but she couldn't shake the feeling that if she hit her head hard enough, it would stop hurting. Her headache hadn't ceased since she sent the dream to Arthur – which might have failed anyway – and even the dreams which Morgana sent through her were weaker. This displeased Morgana, who gave her more food and water in hope it would improve things. It didn't. Which displeased Morgana more.<p>

The witch just liked any excuse to play around with someone else's dreams, in Xyla's opinion. How very petty. How very below a woman of her upbringing.

When Morgana had walked towards the door, Xyla tried to trip her.

Morgana had just glared.

"Morgause, I've never met a less cooperative person," Morgana said aloud. "I wish we could do something about that."

Xyla had not been (very) worried. Morgana knew something was wrong with Xyla, causing the dreams to be weaker, and she wouldn't risk her plan by hurting the brown-haired girl.

"At least Merlin seems to be on his way," Morgause had replied at the time (when was this anyway? A day ago? Two?). "We won't have to put up with her for much longer."

Rubbing her eyes, Xyla shifted her position and groaned. By now, Merlin was probably almost to the castle… Maybe he was here already. She really hoped Morgana and Morgause didn't get him. If they did, things might get… ugly.

* * *

><p>"He's here, Sister."<p>

From her place on a big, comfortable chair Morgana looked up at Morgause, who was standing by the tiny window near the top of the castle.

"Merlin? Do you see him?"

"I caught a glimpse." Then she tapped the side of her head. "Paul also spotted him." Paul was the head of the guards and dabbled in magic, though he was not as good as the sorceresses. Morgana didn't like him—a voice in her head reminded her of Mordred and made her miss him.

Morgause tilted her head to the side and added, "How interesting… He's brought the prince with him."

"Arthur?" A wave of unreasonable fear went through Morgana as she stood up. She didn't want to face her half-brother right now. She still had the feeling that he should have died when she had him killed.

"It seems so. This is perfect, Sister!"

"How?" Morgana walked behind Morgause, trying to see out the window, but there was nothing but big, gray rocks.

"We can now get Merlin and find out just what he did in Camelot… _and_ we have Arthur, heir to Camelot!" Morgause chuckled, and Morgana had to admit she had a point. You couldn't go wrong holding those kinds of cards.

"But we have to catch them first," Morgana reminded her excitable sister.

"That will be the easy part."

* * *

><p>Merlin was undeniably nervous. He rubbed his sweating hands together as they approached the side of the castle under cover of darkness, trying to be silent.<p>

Then Merlin tripped over a rock and went sprawling on the ground.

Arthur looked back (he'd taken the front now) and hissed, "Merlin! Quiet!" He couldn't see it, but the manservant shot him a glare.

_Like I tripped on purpose! _

Ignoring the rather severe pain in his side and knee (but knowing the bruises were probably already forming), Merlin stood up and tried not to grunt. Bigger problems. They had bigger problems.

There would probably be a guard or two at the side door, from what Arthur and Merlin had seen. They would sneak around the back of the castle, and Arthur would go ahead and get rid of the guards—ideally, he would knock them all out except one, get the key from that one, and then knock out the one. But things probably wouldn't work out like that, so they would just improvise. Merlin would just hang behind, useless without a weapon. But he was ready to use magic at the first sign of trouble.

They slowly crept across the rocks, not tripping over any more of them. Merlin could feel a million invisible eyes glued on him, and he didn't like it. But Merlin was rather used to doing things like this without being spotted, so he managed to brush off his nerves and keep going. He could do this.

Arthur looked up and around out of habit though he couldn't see a thing. Taking a deep breath and gripping his sword tightly, Arthur picked up the pace and began to jog forward; he was briefly glad he wasn't wearing clanking armor. He ended up against the brick wall of the castle quite suddenly, nearly smashing into the stones, squinting in the gloom created by the torches set into spaces on the walls. He could see, but barely, and forget about seeing in color.

Arthur licked his lips, feeling excitement bubble up inside him. Sneaking around wasn't something he got to do often, but it was actually rather… Well, not fun. Fun wasn't the word. But it was close. Next to him, he heard Merlin lean up against the wall.

"Alright, I'm going ahead," Arthur whispered so quietly that he could barely hear it, but Merlin seemed to understand because he nodded. "They'll be right around the corner… Watch my back."

Merlin nodded again as Arthur turned and began to inch around the corner. Backing away from the wall a bit, Merlin was able to keep an eye on him and still stay out of sight of one of the guards – there were three – turned around.

Arthur crouched down and held his sword out in front of him, ready to attack. The guards didn't see him, and Merlin found himself watching intently, praying no one noticed Arthur and put up a fight.

One of the guards twitched in their general direction, and Merlin tensed, his heartbeat going so fast that he thought he would drop dead of pure fear. The guard didn't see them, and Merlin let out the breath he was holding.

_Come on, Arthur, just a little bit closer…_

Suddenly Merlin felt the unmistakable touch of something cold and sharp against his neck, and his eyes shot wide. Understandably, he froze. A warm mass pressed up against him, soft— an obviously female person. Merlin felt arms slinking around his shoulders and chest, holding him back, and the knife against him slid slightly as she changed position. The feeling of it made Merlin's mouth go dry in alarm.

_Wake up, _chided his mind. _You need to warn Arthur; they see you!_

Right. Arthur.

Merlin opened his mouth, his breathing hitching, but the woman's grip on his got firmer, and he felt his body jerk back.

"Shut up," Morgause's voice hissed. "Don't call out."

Ignoring her, he opened his mouth again as he began to struggle, but then the rest of her threat made it through to him: _"—or we'll kill Xyla."_

Merlin stilled once more, the thought effectively keeping him from calling out… For all of one second. And then he looked up and saw Arthur almost at the guards, who Merlin suddenly realized probably weren't as clueless as they appeared. Merlin's instinct took over.

Merlin's first instinct, as of the past few years, ever since a certain reptilian who spoke in riddles got a hold of him, was to protect Arthur.

"Arthur!" he yelled out before her hand clapped itself over his mouth.

Arthur whipped around when he heard the fear in Merlin's strangled voice, looking for the enemy behind him. Then a guard leapt forward, abandoning his deceptively relaxed position, and a flash of silver shone in the night as the hilt of his sword came down on the prince's head. The blond man slumped forward, hitting the ground and nearly impaling himself on his own blade.

Merlin hissed, trying to pull away from Morgause, but she was stronger than she looked.

_Forget this. Time for action. _

He felt the surge of magic that he knew so well, at his fingertips and eager to be used. His eyes flashed gold and everything seemed to sparkle, ready to be bespelled—

Then Morgause moved away and in the same movement brought the hilt of her dagger down on the back of his head. Colors exploded before his eyes – and what colors were they? Red? Purple? Why couldn't he tell? Everything was spinning and twisting… Hey, was he falling? Then the ground seemed to get suddenly a lot closer, and then everything was flooded with black and Merlin was gone.


	11. 10: Awakening

**Chapter Ten**

Morgana would never again be Queen of Camelot.

Morgause thought she would, and the dark haired woman just hadn't the heart to tell her the truth, but Morgana didn't fool herself. It went badly enough the first time… The knights rebelled, the people muttered, and Arthur refused to die. Only Uther had reacted as she wished him to, and she didn't get to _finish_. Morgana remembered well the feeling of power her station had given her – that swirl of _I can do whatever I want_ lingering just below her skin, mixing up her brain, making her want to laugh all the time – and it made her miss being queen. It made her want it again.

But it simply would not happen twice. No one would accept her. People would not trust her. No one would _bow_. Even when she was queen, she hadn't had all the control, and she knew it because Arthur was still alive, Merlin was still alive, the knights had never broken.

(And there were times, late at night, curled up alone in her bed, when she couldn't help wondering in her secret heart of hearts, where she kept things that not Morgause or Mordred or even herself could see, if perhaps, just maybe… She had been a _bad queen_.)

But Morgana did not tell Morgause.

And Morgause still made plans.

Morgana helped her in places, smiling at her sister and giving ideas, but it was all fantasy. So in this plan, Morgana was taking part for a few reasons:

One, Arthur and probably Uther would die.

Two, Merlin would pay.

Three, Morgause was really excited.

"Sister, this time, we will take Camelot! We did not succeed before because we did not know… But now we do! Merlin, the secret sorcerer—"

Morgana bit her lip and sank bank into the comfy chair in Morgana and Morgause's "plotting room." "Are you sure about that, Morgause? It just seems so unlikely!"

Morgause glared at her in a vaguely disapproving way. "Do not doubt me, Sister. I saw his eyes when I hit him… He has magic. That must be what I realized before…" Here she trailed off and rubbed the back of her head.

Morgana felt a spark of anger. "At any rate, no matter who he is, he'll pay for _that_." Then she calmed down. "Are you sure he can't use any of his alleged magic now?"

"Quite. Those handcuffs were last used by Uther during the Purge." Morgana decided not to ask how she'd gotten them as Morgause went on, "They are less complex than the one on the girl's scarf, and just block all magic from being used, no picking and choosing."

"So what do we do now, Morgause?"

Morgause smiled. "It is simple. We question _Merlin_ about what really happened _that_ day. We question Arthur about Camelot. And then we kill them both."

Morgana had figured as much, but it was a little surprising. Usually Morgause's plans were more… Well, more.

Morgause flicked her shiny locks over her shoulder and lovingly touched her sword, which sat upon the table before her, ready to be picked up. "And then we move on to Camelot."

Smile only a shade fake, Morgana said, "Yes, won't that be nice?"

* * *

><p>Arthur woke up in a dungeon, which did not please him in the least. For starters, he had a headache. For seconds, he was chained to a wall. A slimy, hard, rock wall.<p>

Arthur sat up grudgingly and looked around the dungeon.

First, he noticed it was dark, which was only to be expected. It was a big room, bigger than the dungeon he'd been in last time, and there was no bed. It reminded him of the cell where they had found Elyan and Gwen, actually. The chains weren't too tight, but they rubbed on his wrists, and that hurt. They held him close to the wall, his arms restricted from a good deal of movement. Apparently to keep a repeat of last time he was in this castle from happening.

The next things he noticed took his mind off of his wrists and head though: it was the other occupants of the room, both asleep or unconscious or… _dead_?

Merlin was slouched against the wall, his head back, and Arthur noticed with relief that his Adam's apple was bobbing up and down. He was handcuffed, but not to the wall; his wrists were just cuffed together. His neckerchief was gone… but no, not gone. It was beneath his head, cushioning it, and the cloth was stained dark with blood. Arthur wondered if he had done that or if someone else had.

The other person was a woman, on the opposite side of the room. She was curled up and sleeping (Arthur saw her chest moving through her blousy shirt that had doubtless once been white but was now too dirty to be a real color). She wore trousers, which, though not unheard of to Arthur, was rather odd. Her face was turned away from Arthur, and if not for her stillness and gentle snoring, he would have considered calling to see if she was awake. Her hair was brown.

A few seconds later and Arthur found himself getting rather lonely.

"Merlin!" he called, hoping the manservant would wake up. He wanted to know how bad that head wound was.

Merlin started and his eyes fluttered open, wide and scared. "Ar…Arthur?" He sat up, hissed, and sank back down, his eyes squeezed tight.

Arthur eyed him with some concern. "You alright?"

"Yeah… My head feels like… like… like Gwaine threw a party last night. But worse."

Relieved, Arthur actually managed a chuckle. If Merlin was making jokes, he couldn't be dying. "You were bleeding, from what I can tell. How bad is the wound?"

Merlin looked over at Arthur, realized he couldn't check for himself, and gingerly reached up to touch the wound. He hissed again. "It's not bleeding anymore. Hurts, but I'm not dizzy or anything and I don't feel sick… Surely that's a good sign?"

Arthur gave a noncommittal noise, his fear partly at rest.

Merlin continued, "It must have happened when Morgause… Oh gods—_Morgause_." He turned and looked at Arthur, eyes wide again, and saw the prince glaring at him.

"That's who we're up against, Merlin? Morgause? And you didn't see fit to tell me? Is Mor…" He choked a bit on the name. "Morgana with her?"

"Er, probably. Sorry, Arthur."

Arthur glared. "If I wasn't chained up in a strange castle, I would strangle you."

"You would never have let me go if I told you, Arthur!"

"No, maybe I wouldn't. I'd wait until we were home and have you flogged and _then_ strangle you! What were you _thinking_?" Merlin winced, but Arthur didn't really care if he was alarmed. The prince was just getting started, his face beginning to redden, wishing he had his sword. Not to cause any real damage, but just for show. "What kind of rescue mission—"

A groan from the other side of the room cut him off, and Arthur and Merlin turned to look at the girl as she shifted. Arthur looked suspicious, and Merlin, overjoyed.

"Xyla!" he exclaimed.

"Who?"

"I'm sure it's her!" said Merlin, standing up and forgetting that he was in the middle of being scolded. He made his way over to the girl, kneeling in front of her and bending over to see if she looked like she was about to wake. "Xyla…?" he started tentatively…

And then she attacked, leaping forward with her arms grabbing onto Merlin.

Well, at first he thought that she had attacked the manservant, and Arthur surged forwards in his chains, wanting to help. Then he looked twice… And… _What?_

_Attacking would have made more sense. _

The girl had sat up, thrown her arms about Merlin's neck until he had fallen nearly on top of her, and then she'd kissed him.

As a matter of fact, she was still kissing him.

It had been a second or two, and she still had her lips pressed firmly against the servant's, and Merlin wasn't complaining.

And then, finally, she broke away. Grinning at Merlin, she said with a strange, almost babyish voice, "Surprised you, didn't I?"

Merlin laughed – yes, actually laughed, as though strange women kissed him everyday! – and nodded. "I see you were awake then."

She giggled, pushing Merlin off of her at last, to Arthur's profound relief. "Oh, Merlin, it's good to see you, but I wish you hadn't come…" Turning her head to the side, she caught a glimpse of Arthur, and her face fell. "Oh, and you brought the prince. Not what I hoped, though…" Her face had gone a bit white at seeing him, and she drew back from Merlin even more.

"Merlin, is this the person we came to save…?"

Arthur had been staring at her in confusion, but when her face went pale and still like that, it seemed familiar. And with Merlin leaning over her, and her leaning back, nearly lying on the ground…

Arthur suddenly recognized her.

Only he couldn't have. That didn't make sense.

Because the last time he'd seen her, she'd been dead.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thanks to Dodo123, Naisa, and Laffy-Taffy the Grape for reviewing last chapter! Please drop me a review and tell me how I did!**


	12. 11: Talking

**Chapter Eleven**

Arthur wasn't quite sure what he said. That is, he wasn't quite sure what words came out of his mouth. All he knew was that they included a _lot_ of cursing. And managed to get across the basic idea… That girl had tried to kill his father, and then she had died. Because she had magic. And she had been shot. And Merlin had come here to save her. And… and…

"And what the _hell_?" he finally finished.

Merlin looked slightly embarrassed. The girl looked reluctantly impressed.

Arthur had to stop and catch his breath.

There was a moment of silence.

Then the girl said, "Well, I'm obviously not dead."

Arthur shook his head. "That's not possible!" he cried, looking at a guilty Merlin and then the girl – hadn't Merlin called her Xyla? – and then back to Merlin. "I saw the body! There was no pulse."

Xyla rolled her eyes. "Magic."

Merlin glared at her in a _don't-you-provoke-him_ way.

Arthur turned his gaze solely to Merlin. "You _knew_?"

The pause that followed was a little too long. Merlin opened his mouth, and Xyla knew he was about to tell the truth, so she interrupted. "No," she said. "Why would I tell the prince of Camelot's manservant that I was only faking death when I had tried to kill the king?"

Arthur didn't really know what to say to that. Of course Merlin hadn't known. That was a stupid thought. But… but then, how…? He knew that his face was comical, but the situation wasn't funny at all. Arthur and Merlin were in chains in a dungeon, captured by Morgause. For a sorceress.

"Explain," said Arthur, a little more calmly.

Merlin looked at Xyla for help. "I told you that you shouldn't have come, Arthur."

"That's not a good enough answer."

"You said you wouldn't—"

"Don't," snapped Arthur. "Don't try that. Not now. The truth."

_How about half of it? _was the thought running through two minds. And then Xyla and Merlin began to answer.

Merlin shrugged. "We were out hunting," he said. "That was the time right before Xyla's… um… So we were out hunting, and the monster we were tracking started chasing me…"

"I remember," said Arthur suddenly, casting his mind back. "You stabbed it with a knife, and I wondered how you got that close without getting killed."

"He didn't," said Xyla, "I…"

Arthur cut her off acidly. "Not you. I don't want to hear excuses from _you_. I asked _Mer_lin."

Xyla raised an eyebrow at him in a manner that made her look extremely superior. Arthur had no reason to be embarrassed (of course not, he was just trying to be loyal to Camelot), but all the same he suddenly felt very childish. And she hadn't even said a word.

Feeling the tension, Merlin hastened to fill in her part. "Xyla was the one who killed the monster. When you caught up with me, she was hiding behind a tree."

Arthur interrupted again. "A tree? Really?"

The side of Xyla's mouth twitched into a half-smile. Arthur glared, but she refused to be abashed.

"Yes, well," said Merlin, blushing a little as he moved away from Arthur's glare and, by default, Xyla. "She saved my life, Arthur."

"You _did_ know that she had magic!"

"Arthur, I come from Ealdor, remember? It's not illegal there. Just in Camelot." Which brought another face to Arthur's mind—a dying, pained face of a young man. Merlin's best friend.

"_You should have told me," Arthur had said. _

Arthur shook his head. "You should've said something."

Merlin thought about this. "Perhaps, but I didn't."

"And she nearly killed my father!" accused Arthur, looking into the sorceress's eyes.

She smiled a little. "That's true. I nearly killed you, too, actually."

Merlin gave her a look sharp enough to slice through bone.

Xyla shrugged. "But I decided not to. I had gotten to know Merlin better then… Though he didn't know me so well. I pretty much told him a pack of lies." Arthur didn't interrupt her, but sat listening with wide eyes from the other side of the dungeon. "And Merlin… trusted you. He liked you." Xyla shot the prince an up-and-down glance. It was obvious that she wasn't pleased with what she saw. "So I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. I trusted Merlin."

She sent Merlin a small smile.

And then it hit Arthur.

"Oh. My…" He looked at her again, and then Merlin. "She was the girl… I… I walked in on you _kissing_ her!"

Xyla chuckled. "I think, technically, I was kissing him."

Merlin shrugged and offered Arthur a sheepish grin. But Arthur had moved on to the next realization.

"That means you _knew_ she was in Camelot!"

"Yes…"

"But you say you didn't know she would try to attack my father?"

"No, I didn't know, Arthur, I swear…"

"_She has magic, you idiot!"_ Arthur spat at him. The hatred on the word magic made Merlin shrink back, feeling like he'd been kicked.

Merlin looked at the ground, a lump forming in his throat. Magic. Arthur hated magic. Right. He cleared his throat and went on, "Most of the part after that you know… I was leaving your room late when I spotted Xyla and followed her. And then I tackled her to the ground when I saw she was going to kill the king."

"Which hurt, by the way," she said dryly.

"It hurt when your knife stabbed me," he answered. "When I went to my room, she was waiting for me. We… had rather an argument."

"Mmm," said Xyla in silent agreement. "Then I knocked him out and ran. I tried to go for the king again with my friend… My friend Kushi. But… the archers…" She stopped and put her head down.

_That's right. There were two girls. _

"The other girl," Arthur interrupted with a sneer. "Is she around here somewhere too?"

Xyla looked up, the anger in her eyes enough to catch a man on fire. "No," she said coldly. "Your archers killed her. I got hit in the shoulder."

Arthur refused to look sorry. It was just a sorceress. If they had caught her, she would have died anyway.

Merlin scooted closer to Xyla again, ignoring how Arthur's look was practically a royal command telling him not to, and rubbed his hand down her arm. He wanted to finish the story for her, but that wouldn't fit with their version of events.

Xyla shook her head, but put her hand in his for comfort. "I used a spell to make it look like I was dead. I healed myself—that's all I'm really good at anyway, healing spells. And then I left Camelot. I wandered for a while, drank in taverns more than was probably proper for a woman, learned more about magic, and became a rather well-known wandering healer."

Arthur looked at her. That didn't really make sense. A magic-user being a healer? That didn't seem very evil.

"What happened?" Arthur asked, pushing the other question aside. He didn't really want to ask. (He was a little afraid that the answer might be the logical one: it wasn't evil.)

"I ran into a woman named Morgana who wanted me to heal her sister, and I did. But she discovered that I knew Merlin… rather well… and… well, here I am. In a dungeon." She moved her hand to her arm where the burn had been. It had healed quickly, but was still rather sore. "Morgana…"

Arthur's face was rather white. "Wait, Morgana is here." He looked at Merlin. "Don't tell me… You knew."

Merlin tried to smile and failed.

"Merlin," said Arthur, "if we don't die in here, I _swear_ that this time I _will_ use that vat of hot oil." The scary thing was that he sounded like he meant it. Merlin swallowed.

Xyla decided it was time to get Arthur's eyes off of the flustered Merlin. "Morgana used me to send some… magic through. Dreams. To Merlin."

"That's why I had to come," Merlin said. "I talked to Xyla in my dreams and… well, you know the rest."

He squeezed Xyla's arm a little tighter, almost possessively. Arthur sighed, not quite as angry as he knew he should be. Something about the way Merlin held onto that girl made him feel almost… mollified.

No. No, he couldn't be. She was a sorceress. And Merlin had known. He was angry. He _was_.

Then the door slammed open and two guards walked in. Arthur tensed, but they completely ignored him. Both men walked over to Xyla and Merlin, who watched them warily. Merlin stood up. Xyla shrank down.

Then the guards latched onto Merlin's arm.

It was a lot harder for Arthur to be angry when Merlin was being pulled away by his arms.

"_Let go!"_

Any of the three prisoners could have said that. No one was really sure which one had, though. Merlin struggled wildly, trying to kick his captor, but received a blow to the stomach for his troubles. He gasped, bent nearly double. Xyla leapt lightly to her feet and launched for one of the men, but in just a second she was overpowered and pressed firmly against the wall, her face into the stone.

"Hey!" she yelped.

Arthur tried to pull on his chains, but of course it was pointless. He was shackled to the wall. There wasn't much he could do… But, oh, how he wanted to stab the man who was pulling Merlin towards the door, nearly yanking the man's arms from their sockets.

Xyla was still making her frustration known to anyone as far away as Camelot, but Merlin was quiet, silently trying to use magic to free himself.

Nothing.

Not a surge of magic, not a glimmer of gold. Not a single thing. He was helpless; his magic wasn't working.

Merlin was dragged out of the door, but before he was out of sight he turned to give Arthur a wide eyed look.

Arthur was staring back, the expression on his face making it clear that he was thinking very hard about vats of hot oil. He was still trying to yank the chains out of the wall… Or maybe break his wrists.

A minute later, Xyla was released. She collapsed into a heap on the floor, but quickly recovered and jumped back up. She stood just in time to see the door creak closed with an ominous _bang_ behind the second guard.

The prince and the sorceress were left alone in the dungeon.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I probably won't be able to update next week, but we'll see. Thank you to IceCreamDoodle13, Laughy-Taffy the Grape, Dodo.123, Naisa, Randomanime456, and DarkAngel2112 for reviewing last chapter! Please review!**


	13. 12: Fighting

**Chapter Twelve **

Xyla stared at the door long after it shut, as if she could make Merlin walk back in with the power of her mind.

(Could she? She _was_ a sorceress… But no, Arthur was being ridiculous…)

Her eyebrows were drawn together, and her lips were down in a persistent frown, as though Merlin being taken was annoying her greatly. Arthur found that faintly irritating, but decided not to worry about her for the moment; that wouldn't do any good.

Thinking about Merlin wasn't doing any good either.

_He lied to me! _Arthur kept thinking. _He knew she had magic and he didn't say anything. My father nearly died. _

He also tackled her to the ground to save his father's life.

Arthur looked over at the girl – Xyla – as she leaned back against the wall with her eyes fixated on the door (probably partly to avoid looking at Arthur), and despite himself, he felt a bit of humor bubble up in him. _Yeah, I'm sure tackling her took a great deal of self-sacrificing. _

Immediately he was ashamed of himself. He shouldn't find this funny. For heaven's sake, his manservant dragged him off to rescue a sorceress, and now Merlin was… well, who knew what was going on with Merlin right now? He was probably scared.

That idiot.

Why had they taken Merlin? What was the point? Was he just being moved, or what? And why was Morgause (and Morgana) paying no attention to the fact that they had captured Arthur? Surely the capture of the Prince of Camelot was more important than that of a simple servant?

And did Merlin really… _like_ this sorceress girl—Xyla?

Xyla, for her part, was finding Arthur rather annoying.

His friend was currently being dragged along by villainous guards. He was captured and _chained up_. His evil half-sister (at least; she thought so… Morgana had explained the whole parental mess up to her, but it was too confusing for someone with a horrible headache) was running a castle with _her_ evil half-sister. He had plenty to be thinking about, so where did he get off just staring at her like that? What did he want her to do, drop dead?

She tried not to meet his eyes, but she could still feel his gaze on her. He was making her nervous. Why did he have no expression on his face? He could at least have the decency to look worried. Her annoyance, mixed with the twisting anxiety in her stomach, was growing larger and heavier and hotter.

But she wouldn't react to his gaze. No, she hated the prince of Camelot, and he wasn't worth her attention, much less her temper. (That's what her father told her when she was little, anyway; some people aren't worth the temper.) She wouldn't react even if she had to sit here, staring at the door blankly for _years_. She would get a hold of her anger.

1, 2, 3…

Eh, forget it.

"Stop staring at me!" she snapped, her head swiveling towards Arthur so fast that he gave a tiny start.

"I beg your pardon?" he said out of reflex.

"Stop staring at me. I don't like it."

Arthur's eyes narrowed in frustration. "I don't like being chained up on account of some sorceress."

"Well, that's not my fault," she said with a superior sniff. "You weren't supposed to come _with_ Merlin. You were supposed to stop him from coming at all!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I sent you that stupid dream so you would realize Merlin was up to something and stop him, but you were too thick for it to even come through properly!" She stopped herself and looked away from Arthur again. _Well, it's not like the thought of me sending dreams is so crazy… Why is his mouth hanging open like that? Geez, he's stupid._

"You sent me the dream I had," he said in a bland voice.

"Yes," she said. "And do you know how difficult that was when most of my magic has been taken away?"

Arthur, of course, didn't know. He blinked at her with a bit of surprise, and maybe some alarm, but he couldn't think of an answer. He had planned on being very angry by this point—heck, he was almost expected to be angry now, right? But Xyla was breathing hard, and her cheeks were stained pink, and she looked like she wanted to spit. Somehow it was always harder to be angry at any female when she was mad first. (With the exception of Morgana… But then, that was his sister.)

Actually, looking at her right then, Arthur almost wanted to smile. There was that blasted sense of humor again. Where had that even _come_ from?

She rolled her eyes.

They fell into silence, but this time Arthur just couldn't stand it. Now that they'd started talking, Arthur didn't want to stop. Stopping would mean he had to focus on the situation they found themselves in right at the moment, and he'd rather not.

"You tried to kill my father," he said at last. That was good. A conversation topic, but not one that could possibly humanize her, or make him understand why Merlin went through all this trouble to save her. One that allowed her to remain the enemy. Arthur congratulated himself.

"Your father _did_ kill my father. And my mother. My sister and her husband… Pretty much everyone in my community."

Arthur looked sorry for just a second, but it was gone quickly. "They were sorcerers?" he asked, but it sounded like a condemnation.

"_Sihirli kisi," _she told him, and he looked puzzled. "Roughly translates to 'magic people.' A community… People with the ability to use magic who all lived together, teaching their children all about it from the time they were babies. It was like growing up… seeped in magic. There were lots of the communities… Most disbanded when the Purge began, but our group thought there was strength in numbers. Maybe we were right… It took them years to find us. I was… six? Seven? Something like that when we were found. I was an infant when the Purge began."

Arthur would have been a child, then. That made sense… Most of Arthur's earliest memories were littered with images of sentenced sorcerers as the Great Purge began to slow. He wondered if he remembered seeing any of that group die, or if they had been killed on the spot.

"A few people survived. I did. My friend Kushi. A young boy and two adults who taught us to use magic. And when we were old enough, Kushi and I wanted revenge."

Arthur had heard that way too many times. "Practicing magic is against the law; my father had to uphold that…"

"Your father _made_ the law, so you can't use that excuse!"

He didn't know what to say again. He was right, of course, but he couldn't think of the words to prove it. She wouldn't believe him anyway… She was a wicked magic-user.

"I swear, you are so stupid," she griped. "It's beyond me why Merlin is so attached to you."

"And what do you mean by _that_?" He was really beginning to hate the comments that she didn't elaborate on.

"I mean, for some reason he seems to think that you aren't all that bad. Almost like a friend. Even when you're cruel to him."

"I'm not—!" He started forward out of instinct, but his chains rattled and stopped him. He gave them a glare to show his disapproval, and then turned his eyes back to her. Cruel? He was never _cruel_ to _Mer_lin. He wasn't always the nicest, sure, but overall…

She wasn't looking at him again. The thought of Merlin drove her eyes back to the door, and the worried crease on her forehead came back. "His – rather misplaced, in my opinion – trust in you is the reason why Kushi and I agreed not to kill you."

Sarcasm, always a powerful weapon, came to his assistance at once. "Should I say thank you?"

"Don't bother," she said, looking at him again with hatred in her brown eyes. "Wouldn't accept anyway. We didn't think it was really fair to punish the son for the father's sins, anyway."

There was a pause.

"My sister had been married for a year. When she was killed, she was pregnant with her first child."

For some reason, that revelation made Arthur distinctly uncomfortable. He changed the subject, because this topic was failing to demonize Xyla. Her angry expression hadn't changed, and you couldn't see the hurt in her voice, but Arthur knew that it was there. Many years old, but the anger existed. And hurt was wonderful fuel for anger.

"So… you must have really… respected Merlin's opinion to let him change your mind."

She gave a tiny smile, her breathing slowly, and he got the impression that she was grateful for the change of subject.

"Yeah, I did. Merlin's smart."

"You like him." The thought was very unsettling. Sorcerers were capable of feeling that way? (Of course they were, he thought to himself. They were _sort of_ human.)

She nodded. "I thought I loved him."

Okay, that was very, _very_ unsettling.

"But not anymore?"

She gave a small chuckle, meeting Arthur's eyes. He tried not to break the contact. "I knew him for what, a week? That's rather quick, don't you think? I thought I loved him… But you know, a year away is great for thinking time. Helps you make smart decisions."

He didn't really want to talk about a sorceress's smart decisions. But still… he couldn't help being curious. "Such as, you don't love him?"

"Such as, I like him. And if I had more than a week full of attempted assassinations and death to get to know him better, I would probably love him. Not like it's really going to happen… I can't really go back to Camelot without getting killed, now can I? And there's no reason to look like you swallowed a bug, _Sire_. I'm not going to corrupt your manservant. We'll probably die before I'd even get the chance."

Corrupt… okay; _there_ was a subject they didn't need to get into. "We're not going to die," he told her.

She stared at him in surprise for a second, all the bitterness gone from her eyes. But then, after a moment, all the hatred came rushing back. "Meaning yourself and Merlin, I suppose. Well, if you don't die, I have no plans of doing so either, you know."

Arthur shrugged. He hadn't really given any thought to what would happen to her. But perhaps it bore thinking about.

"Besides," she grumbled, "You don't know that Merlin isn't dead already."

Horror flashed through Arthur. No. There was no way. Merlin couldn't die. "Merlin will be fine," he said defensively.

She gave an ironic half-smile, much less attractive than her real ones. "And you don't think it's any of my business either way, maybe?"

They both turned to stare at the door, and no matter how much they wanted to, they didn't say another word to each other.

* * *

><p>Merlin's magic didn't work.<p>

It was these blasted cuffs around his wrists… Every time he tried to cast a spell, he felt the magic surge up and be rebuffed by them. _He couldn't use magic_. He was powerless. And that was terrifying.

Merlin had been dragged out of the poorly lit, windowless dungeon into the hall, where lights seemed to assault him from all sides. Everything went white, and a spike of pain went through his eyes. He closed them quickly, squeezing his lids together as purple and red colors splashed up against his eyelids. The two men didn't stop for him, though; they pulled Merlin forward, and he stumbled to keep up. His arms were aching from the rough way he'd been manhandled out of his prison, and he didn't want them pulled on.

After a moment or two, his eyes adjusted, and he peeked through his lids at his surroundings. He recognized the castle, naturally. It hadn't been too long ago that he'd been in it, dragged down the dark stone corridors and tossed into a tiny cell with a cot. (Arthur had taken the cot. Merlin had sat on the floor.) Merlin had never been in this part of the castle, though. He'd only seen a bit of it—just the way to his former cell to the throne room and back. The floor had a rug on it. The walls were bare and cheerless, except for the occasional turn or window. The men dragging him were of the generic guard type. Cenred's old colors still on them, helmets, unsmiling faces of men who took themselves very seriously.

Merlin had run into tons of their kind.

Merlin had killed tons of their kind. He couldn't count the number, even if he wanted to. A faint spark of guilt lit in his brain when he thought of Xyla and her healing magic, the way she'd looked at him back when she was in Camelot. She didn't know that he'd killed people.

But he had bigger problems right now, he thought, shaking the other idea from his mind. Where were they taking him? To Morgause and Morgana? What was going to happen to him, to Arthur, to Xyla?

How would they escape and make this one turn out right?

And if they were killed, what would Gaius and Gwen think? Gwaine? Lancelot?

It was an unhappy Merlin that was finally dragged into a room on the second floor of the castle. It used to be a bedroom, but no longer boasted curtains on the windows or a bed to the side. It was bare but for the weapons and miscellaneous tools on the back wall and several comfortable chairs and a table… And one wooden chair in the middle of it all, facing the other chairs and looking quite ominous.

That one had Merlin's name on it, he could tell. The guards shut the door, and a third man standing by the wall on the inside of the room locked it.

The guards pushed him towards the chair, and he struggled to pull away. Quite pointless, really, since he knew he couldn't get away. Even if he could, he couldn't get out of the room. But he had to struggle, just for the principle of the thing… And because he was suddenly very scared. See, Morgause stood in the corner of the room, a fourth guard by her side. They were coming forward. And that man held thin chains.

_Oh, no, _he thought with alarm. He'd been chained up by Morgause once, and it was not something he was desperate to relive.

The men pushed him into the chair, but he got to his feet and tried to pull away again, so one of the guards held him down. A big hand was on one shoulder, another on one thigh, holding him sitting. Merlin tried to push his arms away, his mouth going dry.

Morgause laughed a little, but Merlin ignored her.

Then the guard by her side stepped forward and began to tie him to the chair. His hands were chained. His ankles were chained. Merlin was near to panicking; he just wanted to run as fast and as far as he could. He didn't like being tied up… That made him more helpless than the loss of his powers.

Morgause waved the guards away when they finished, and they went silently, unlocking the door so they could leave.

Merlin was left with a sneering Morgause, her blonde hair pulled back all-business, chained to a chair, helpless, with his blood pounding through him so hard he could hear it in his ears.

"So, Merlin," she said. "It's been a long time since we've seen each other, hasn't it?"

"Where's Morgana?" he asked.

"She might be along a little later," said Morgause casually, and Merlin wondered why.

Morgause made her way slowly towards the back of the room, passing out of Merlin's sight. He tried desperately to look behind him, but still couldn't spot her. She was moving towards the wall with the weapons.

"Now, Merlin," she said, repeating his name. "I have a few questions for you, and I'm _sure_ you could be persuaded to answer, hmm?"

Merlin couldn't help himself. He groaned, casting his eyes towards the ceiling.

_Great. Just great._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I realize I've been gone a long time, and I'm so sorry! I made it a longer chapter to make up for it, so don't be unhappy with me, please. I was dreadfully busy. And we got more back story for Xyla. I'll try to update in a week. Thanks to reviewers. Please review again! Sorry for the bit of a cliffhanger…**


	14. 13: Plot Movement

_A/N: Recently I and anything that needs to be beta'd have not gotten along. It's rather annoying. (Sigh) BUT! Not my beta's fault (or betas', since Shadows was helping with another fic...). I will just post this unbeta'd, but I warn you now I'm not fond of this chapter. Except the end._

**Chapter Thirteen**

Do you have magic?

How powerful are you?

How long have you studied?

Where did you learn?

What happened the day the prince took Camelot?

What part did Gaius and Lancelot play in that?

Why did you do all this?

Why did you poison Morgana?

Are you playing the servant to get at the prince?

Why do you save the prince and the king?

Why are you loyal to them?

Why would you risk execution?

_Why?_

_Tell me. _

Merlin had never heard so many questions in his life. Why was it that the questions threw him off so much, anyway? Was it because he was so used to his secrets staying secret?

Fie, now even _he_ was thinking in questions…

* * *

><p>Arthur and Xyla still hadn't spoken another word to each other, no matter how much they were tempted to. Occasionally their eyes would meet across the room, and one or the other would glare at each other, and those times Arthur found her presence very annoying, downright offensive. Sometimes Xyla would give him a curious glance or Arthur would give her a thoughtful one, and then Arthur found her being there infuriating and exasperating. But sometimes Xyla's face was blank, and her eyes were wider than usual and shiny to boot. Those times Merlin's absence was almost tangible, and Arthur was secretly glad he wasn't alone in this cheerless cell.<p>

Arthur had just begun to think that, chains or no chains, he really needed to find a way to escape before he went stir-crazy when Merlin was unceremoniously returned.

The door opened, two guards came in and brought a ray of light from the hall with them. Merlin was being dragged between them and was thrown onto the floor, his shackles still on his arms and his face in the dirty floor.

Xyla leapt to her feet. Arthur tried.

Before Merlin could get up again, the guards had crossed the room and were unchaining Arthur. The prince took this opportunity to punch a guard in the face and try to pull away, but it was two against one and Arthur was sore from being stuck in the same uncomfortable position.

The second guard landed a blow to Arthur's stomach, and he doubled over, his breath flying out of him.

Merlin sat up and got to his feet (he wobbled a bit, though), and decided that he should probably help. His chains didn't slow him down too much, so he rushed over to throw himself on the back of the guard who punched Arthur.

Xyla, standing to the side, _would_ have helped… but she didn't. She wasn't really good at that. Besides, it was pretty obvious how this was going to end.

The guard threw Merlin off of him effortlessly, but the warlock got back to his feet and latched onto the guard again, using his chains to beat at the man. Xyla mentally cheered. Arthur caught his breath quickly and threw himself at the other guard again, and both men fell to the ground.

The guard who Merlin had attacked spun around and used his arms to send Merlin crashing into the wall. Merlin grunted as his head cracked against the stone, biting his lip to keep him from crying out. His eyes shut, his hands were closed into fists, and he fell to the ground. By the time he opened them again a few seconds later, Arthur had been manhandled out of the room and the door was slamming shut.

Silence reigned in the cell.

"Ow," whined Merlin from the floor.

"I really don't pity those guards, having to get him all the way to… wherever they're going," said Xyla, crossing the cell to kneel down by Merlin's side.

"Well, they get paid for it," pointed out Merlin, rubbing his head with a groan. "Ow!"

"You probably have a bump on your head. Don't touch it." Xyla looked him over worriedly for any injuries. "What did Morgause do to you… Oh, Merlin, your face!"

Merlin's blue eyes were still screwed up, waiting until the pain in his head subsided. "Is it bad?" he asked her.

She winced in sympathy. "That's going to be quite a bruise." The bruise coming out on his cheek was already brown and shiny, stretching from his cheekbone to the side of his mouth, where a bit of blood was gathering from where his tooth had dug into his lip. "What… what did she hit you with?"

"Just her hand," said Merlin, trying not to shrug because his head was just beginning to stop hurting, and he didn't want to move just yet. "She got angry when I rolled my eyes at her."

"Merlin!"

"She asked me why I was so loyal to Arthur. Do you realize how many people ask me that?" Heck, this was Morgause's second time asking that… "I didn't mean to."

Xyla frowned. "Did she ask you a lot of questions?"

"Yeah."

Xyla waited.

"I told her."

"You did?"

Merlin nodded and tried to sit up, wincing as he did so. Xyla supported him. "I think she knew a lot of the answers anyway. She knew about my magic." He sighed and shook his head. "There wasn't much point in saying nothing and getting myself hurt. Besides, they were pretty easy questions… If I had magic, where I'd learned – she didn't believe me when I said I was born using magic – and the like."

"Wait, you were born using magic? Seriously?"

Merlin looked at her with some surprise. "You knew that."

"No, I didn't."

For a moment they stared at each other. Merlin could've sworn she'd known that. She could've sworn she didn't. But then, they decided at last, it _had_ been a year…

Merlin shook his head. "I'm worried about Arthur, though."

Xyla looked towards the door. Arthur's questions wouldn't be so easy to answer. "He's stubborn, isn't he?" she asked.

Merlin nodded. "We have to escape before Morgause or Morgana hurts him."

Xyla smiled. "Yeah, can't let them hurt him."

"Well, that's my destiny. Stupid prat shouldn't have come along anyway," Merlin muttered to himself unhappily, finally getting to his feet. "I think I know how to get to the room where they'll be taking him."

Xyla bit back some words about how annoying Merlin's loyalty could be. He was right; his friend was in danger. Deciding to be practical rather than sarcastic (and to stand up, because looking up at Merlin like this was pretty awkward), Xyla pointed out, "The problem with your plan, Merlin… Is that we're locked in a cell. Without the key. And Arthur is on the other side of the door. And neither of us can use magic."

Merlin looked at her, then to the door, and suddenly he grinned quite… evilly. Well, maybe mischievously. "Yeah," he said, lifting his fist. "That not-having-the-key thing is quite a problem, isn't it? Do you know, that guard wears his keys on his belt the exact same way that Arthur wears his in Camelot?" He opened his hand. On his palm sat a little black key.

**A/N: By the way, peeps or preps or readers or Merlin fans or whatever-you-like, there is a poll on my profile :)**


	15. 14: Some Escaping

**Chapter Fourteen **

"I'm glad they have locks on both sides of the door in this one," Merlin commented to Xyla as he slowly inserted the key into the door. "They didn't in the last one."

"Last one? You've been here before?"

"Once. Arthur and I – well, and Gwen and Morgana – came here to save Gwen's brother once, back when Cenred still ran this castle. Arthur and I had a smaller cell that time, though. And there was no lock on the inside of that cell." The key didn't turn that way. He tried to force it the other way.

"But you escaped anyway?"

"A lot faster than we did this time, actually." He paused for a second, his hand stilling. "Really dumb plan, too. I still can't believe that worked…" He shook his head. "But Arthur wouldn't be able to climb to the ceiling in this one. It's too big. Shh!"

The door was unlocked. The click of the lock seemed deafening to Merlin, who feared any guards on the other side might have heard it.

He and Xyla shared a nervous glance before he began to slowly open the door, thanking the gods that it didn't creak. Unconsciously, he held out a hand to keep her standing behind him. Leaning forward and peering past the stone, he looked out in the hall and saw… nothing.

"There aren't any guards."

"That you can see," Xyla commented in a whisper, because speaking any louder seemed wrong. That, and because she didn't want to alert any guards nearby that they were escaping.

"Maybe they went with Arthur."

"Seems careless."

Merlin shrugged, and after a second more of looking, he opened the door all the way and stepped outside. He didn't even have the chance to look around before the guard he hadn't been able to spot from his angle simply stepped forward and latched onto Merlin's still-chained wrist.

Panicking, Merlin tried to spin around and push the unseen opponent away, but the man snarled and grabbed his other arm, keeping him from wriggling free. Merlin struggled anyway.

Xyla, who had jumped about three feet in the air when the guard appeared, saw Merlin being manhandled. She knew she had to help. She felt deep in her bones that she had to defend him, and herself, and that this guard was in the way.

To be honest, she rather forgot herself right there. She wasn't sure what else would make her jump forward, rip the helmet from the surprised guard, put both hands around his neck… and then let herself fall backwards, still attached to the attacker.

Something jerked the head from her hands as her behind connected with the stone floor, and for a moment she was too jarred to move or think.

Merlin toppled to the floor when the guard released him, but looked up in time to see Xyla pulling the man backwards—leading his bare head right into the corner of the doorway. He gave a yelp as his head connected to stone, and slid to the floor. Xyla gave a cry as she hit the floor and fell over backward.

Getting to his feet, Merlin looked around and had to admit he was impressed. "You knocked him out," he said, stretching out a hand to help Xyla to her feet. _If I was left in charge of the situation, he'd probably be dead, _Merlin found himself thinking, surprisingly a bit guilty.

Xyla looked down at the man. "It was just instinct," she told Merlin, gripping onto his arm tightly to keep from… what? Fainting? Hardly. She'd never fainted in her life. (Passed out, yes, maybe. Fainted, never.)

_I don't like fighting, _she thought.

There was blood on the man's head. He was breathing, but he didn't move. Her stomach twisted.

That kind of thing reminded her too forcefully of her family, of Uther, of Kushi.

Glaring at nothing in particular, she remembered that she had learned healing magic and stopped trying to kill people _for this reason._

She shook her head, took a deep breath, and then told herself to move on.

"We need to find Arthur," Merlin said.

Xyla felt herself smile a bit. "Or we could just, you know, leave."

Merlin stared at her for a second, looking hurt, and then he said quietly, "You can go if you want; I have to find Arthur."

"I was kidding. Really." Mostly. She tried to smile brightly.

Merlin tried too.

Eventually they both just gave up. Merlin grabbed Xyla's arm and pointed in the right direction, and they went off after a blond prat who, in her opinion, should really be the one in charge of the saving department. Wasn't that what princes were supposed to do anyway? But no, just her luck—she got stuck helping her... her... _whatever Merlin was_ to save a useless prince while probably getting them all nearly killed by Morgause and Morgana.

Actually, the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of leaving Arthur there. So she stopped thinking about it.

_A/N: Really short, but I wanted to publish something this weekend, and I didn't have time for more. Anyway, thanks to reviewers! And what did you think? I didn't like it..._


	16. 15: Twist

_A/N: Came down with a horrible case of writer's laziness. I knew what I wanted to happen, but wasn't sure how I would make it happen, and then I was just like, "Who really cares?" and then… well, I just didn't write a chapter last week. I'm actually still suffering from the writer's laziness, but I will attempt to get past this chapter. After this it should be… somewhat easier. I want to finish this chapter within a few weeks. That way I can publish the new story I'm planning, _Assassins_, and start to work on the story I've just published, _Just One, Big, Happy Kingdom_. So… I'll do my best. _

_I'm hopefully going to start updating this once every few days._

_Not beta'd right now; I wanted to get it out tonight._

**Chapter Fifteen**

Xyla was wondering to herself whether she'd rather have her neckerchief back or a knife. If she could use her magic, that would be nice, but she wasn't so great at fighting with magic. And she doubted she'd want to heal anyone here. Then again, she didn't have such a great record with knives either. The only person she'd ever managed to hurt with one was Merlin.

Still, if someone handed her a knife and put Morgana in front of her, she figured she could get a whole lot better really quickly. But she'd leave all that to the men for the moment.

Merlin peeked around a corner and drew his head back. Leaning against the wall, he whispered, "Two guards outside the door, just like I thought."

"Both with armor and swords, just like _I _thought," she said drily.

He sent her a withering look. "Are you always this peevish?" he asked quietly.

"Only when I'm on a stupid suicide mission with a stupid powerless warlock saving a really, really stupid prince. In a castle that I'm not familiar with."

"A stupid castle."

"Oh, shut up. Alright, how do we get past the guards?"

Merlin looked at the sword in his bound hands. "You think I could use the sword to get these cuffs off?"

"Probably break the sword. The cuffs are magic."

Merlin really wanted to look around to see the guards standing about half a room's length away from them, but he resisted the urge. "I've got an idea. But it's dangerous. For you more than me."

Xyla's eyebrows drew together over her brown eyes. "Well…"

"I could take the more dangerous part," he decided. "But the part I was planning on taking involves using the sword…"

"I'll take the dangerous part. Just… don't let me get killed. What is it?"

Merlin nodded, squashing the guilt he felt for what was about to happen, and jerked his head towards the open hall. "Go stand there."

"_What_?" She looked aghast.

"Trust me."

* * *

><p>Ashley saw the girl at the same time as Bryce. It was hard to miss, of course, since she wasn't really making any effort to hide herself. She just walked out from behind the corner and stood in the hall, not looking at all nervous. She just blinked a bit, blankly, and stared at the guards, waiting for them to move from the door.<p>

Of course they did.

"Hey—" said Bryce, sounding confused even through his helmet. "You there—"

Both started forward, drawing their swords and not afraid to use them. Ashley saw the girl's eyes go a bit wide, but she didn't move. She just watched them get closer, and closer. As they neared the corner she'd appeared from, she took a step back, her eyes flickering left and right. Her breathing sped up.

"Now," said Ashley, facing her and lifting his sword, "What—"

And then something dull collided with the back of his neck, where his helmet met his chainmail, something cracked, and bright lights went off in front of his eyes.

Bryce spun to face the new threat when Ashley yelped and crumpled.

Merlin felt it was too awkward to use the hilt of the sword again; besides, this man was pointing a sword at him. So before he finished turning, Merlin ran him through the neck, where the protection was weak.

He fell too, and Xyla yelped, her eyes wide. She stared at Merlin, and then her eyes started to sink down to stare at the dead man with red starting to stain over his chainmail.

"Don't look," Merlin suggested in a low voice. "Sorry."

"No…" her voice caught and she had to clear her throat. "I get it." She looked briefly at the other guard. He might be dead too, but this was no time to think over that. "I suppose… I suppose the door over there's unlocked?"

"Probably. Arthur's probably tied up, and Morgause is alone, I'd think. I don't remember them locking it when I was there."

"Well… I guess we just walk in then?" Xyla looked a little amused as she walked towards the door. "Morgause won't be happy with that."

"There's a wall of weapons against the back wall, the chair's in the middle, Morgause could be anywhere. Maybe she'll be too surprised for a moment. We can cut Arthur free…"

Xyla waited. "That's it? That's the plan?"

"Pretty much."

"Merlin, you don't plan well, you know that?"

Merlin shrugged. "First Arthur and now you," he griped. "I do the best I can!" Shaking his head, he grabbed the swords from the guards and gave them to Xyla, who winced but took them.

"Keep one, give one to Arthur," he said. "If we need to do some distracting, I'll distract Morgause."

"What if Morgana's there too?"

Merlin paused, going a bit pale. He hadn't thought of that. Oh, well. "We'll cope."

Xyla bit her tongue to keep from protesting exactly how much this plan stunk. "We get the prince, we run," she said.

"Yes."

"Okay."

Merlin walked forward, opened the door, and walked in.

And was immediately blasted back against a wall, so they had to tweak the plan a bit.

Three voices said his name at once, with emotions varying from alarm to pleasure, but his head was swimming too much from the collision with the wall to sort them out. He tried to sit up, but another wave of magic knocked him back again, and it felt a little like his head had exploded.

"Nice of you to join us, Merlin." That was Morgause. They was positively, undoubtedly Morgause. Ow, his head. "I admit I didn't think you would make it out of the cell."

Yes, everyone was always underestimating him. Now if he could just sit up and show her who the real magician here was…

Another hit with magic. There was no letup. Tears were rolling down his face from the pain of biting his tongue and smashing something… Light was everywhere… he couldn't see a thing.

"Stop!"

Xyla grabbed at Morgause, but the blonde easily pushed her off and knocked her to the ground. Xyla got to her feet again, eyeing the blue neckerchief that was in the back pocket of Morgause's practical trousers. There was her magic. She wanted it.

Standing, she went for it again, but abruptly stopped when Morgause held up a hand in Merlin's direction and yelled the magic-coated words: _"Dal i wal!"_

Merlin was picked up from the ground where he'd been sitting and trying to remember how to breathe, but this time when he was thrown against the wall, he didn't fall back to the ground again. He just hovered there above the ground, his legs kicking wildly, his eyes rolling.

Arthur yelled Merlin's name again, but was ignored. Everyone had rather lost interest in the prince, who was chained to a chair with a shallow gash decorating the side of his face, stretching up past his hairline and turning his hair red on that side.

Xyla reached for Morgause again, but the sorceress held her hand up higher, threateningly. "I'll kill him," she warned.

Xyla stopped.

_Hell._

It looked like they were rapidly losing control of the situation. Merlin was stuck hanging on the wall like the prize of a hunt, Arthur was tied to a chair, and she had dropped her swords in her surprise and never picked them up. And, if the way Morgause kept looking at the door was anything to go by, someone else – like Morgana – would be along in a moment.

She'd known this was a bad plan.

"Fine," said Xyla, shaking her head, and for the first time casting a look at Arthur. He was staring at Merlin with his neck twisted back in an uncomfortable position. "We surrender."

"What?" said Merlin. "No we don't…"

"Shut up, Merlin," she said. "Give me my magic," she told Morgause. "I'll take Merlin and go, that's all I want."

Morgause grinned. "Why would I do that?"

"Because." Xyla licked her lips, swallowed, and made sure _not_ to look at Merlin. Or Arthur, who was now staring at her. "Arthur's all you need to bring Camelot to its knees. And Merlin's already told you all you want to know from him. And… And if you don't agree, I might pick up the sword at my feet and run you through before you manage to kill Merlin. And if you do kill him, I _know_ I'll do it."

"I don't—"

"And I can do it before Morgana arrives."

There was a small silence, punctuated only be the furious growl from Merlin's throat. "Xyla…"

"Why do you need your magic?" stalled Morgause.

"To transport us away from here," said Xyla. "Come on, Morgause, all my magic is good for anyway is healing. Hardly dangerous to you." Her palms were sweating. She wiped them on her shirt.

"Or I could just wait for Morgana to show up," pointed out Morgause.

Xyla took a step forward.

No one else even peeped.

She took another. Morgause's eyes narrowed, but she didn't stop Xyla as her hand inched forward and took her neckerchief from Morgause's pocket.

Magic surged through her again, and as the two boys watched her with wide and betrayed eyes, she started to walk towards Merlin. If she just reached him… Transportation wasn't her forte, but it wasn't offensive, so she was passable at it… She just needed to touch his ankle or…

Suddenly Merlin fell to the ground as Morgause released that spell to cast another. The air tensed and gathered around the sorceress as cold words fell from her lips, the start of a spell.

"_Tân y—"_

Xyla's feet left the ground as she launched herself at Merlin and landed nearly on top of him, shrieking her spell before the other one could reach them, her mind fixed firmly on one thought.

"_Cludiant!"_

The world swirled, darkness and wind suddenly felt like they were ripping Xyla's flesh from her bones as her body began to disappear until there was nothing left there.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Okay, there. Now, I don't want Xyla to be the only person getting anything done in this fic… But I figured this was fair, since Merlin went on a mission, got the key, got them out of the dungeon, and killed those guards, and all Xyla's done is get Arthur and knock out a guard. But Merlin will get more action again next chapter. And Arthur will get more action… whenever he gets untied, if he ever does!_

_Review?_


	17. 16: Deja Vu

**Chapter Sixteen**

Merlin could in all honesty say that he'd never hit a woman. Killed a few, dropped a light fixture on one, blown up some—all that was true. They'd started it. But he'd never hit a woman, and never really wanted to.

But as he felt himself reappear somewhere else, Xyla's magic depositing them in some unknown location and her hands clinging to him, with both of them sprawled on stone, he was starting find the idea a lot more attractive.

He leapt to his feet as fast as he could, nearly running into Xyla, who was trying to do the same. Where were they? It was small, like a tiny room… a closet? With nothing in it?

"Hold on, Merlin!" she hissed, but he wasn't going to listen to her.

"What…? You… How could you—" He started to raise his voice, but she shoved her hand over his mouth, shushing him.

"You have to be quiet, just for a second…" she started, but he shook her off and tried to push past her, for when he looked up he could see that they were in a stone alcove and she was standing next to the exit.

"No!" he snapped, but she sucked in breath through her teeth and slammed her hand over his mouth again, nearly knocking him down.

This time he didn't pull away, because he heard it too.

Footsteps, coming towards them. Xyla pressed him against the very back of the alcove, trying to make them as small as two grown people could be. She squeezed her eyes shut, whispering underneath her breath.

Merlin, despite the fact that he was still mad enough to hit her, let her keep him back and lean against him as he looked out into the… hall? Room? …outside of the alcove.

The footsteps got closer.

And then Morgana stepped into view.

She was walking, her head up, her hair done, wearing a blue dress. Merlin's breath caught.

And then she kept walking and stepped out of view.

Merlin waited until the footsteps faded, thanking the gods that she hadn't heard him as all the anger drained out of him. Then he looked down at Xyla, who was just opening her eyes and unclenching her fists, her breathing still rapid.

"We're still in the Castle of Fyrien," he said in a tone of wonder.

She looked up at him. "Of course. You didn't think I'd just leave the prince, did you? You would pout for months, good heavens…" There was the teasing tone he'd come to expect from her, but she looked honestly offended.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he admitted.

"I had to get us out of there… We're in the hall, not far from the room where Arthur is." Xyla decided not to tell him how very tempted she'd been to just leave. "Morgana was coming… You couldn't use your magic or anything."

"Well, let's go then!"

"Hold on," she said, taking ahold of his wrists. Grinning, she added, "I've never done this before, so I really hope I don't accidentally take your hands off or anything…"

"Wait, _what_?"

The look of horror on his face made her giggle impolitely as she incanted. _"Dynnu."_

The chains fell off into her hands, and she held them up in front of his face.

"Just kidding," she said. "I'm actually pretty passable at magic, you know."

He held up his reddened wrists and blinked at them, feeling the power to use his magic rushing back into his limbs, and he sighed in relief. "Thanks," he told her.

"You can kiss me for it later," she answered, and they left the niche to save the prince.

They stood before the now unmanned, closed door with the mutual feeling that they'd been here before. Only then, they'd had swords.

"Get it, grab a weapon, free the prince, fight our way out, run like hell?" she guessed, and he nodded.

They stood there for a second longer, but nothing more really needed to be said, so at last Merlin just sighed and pushed the door open, and in they went again.


	18. 17: Escape

_A/N: Okay, now it's beta'd. Thanks DarkAngel2112_

**Chapter Seventeen **

Arthur wasn't quite sure how to feel.

When he'd first been tied to a chair – and incidentally, it was _very_ uncomfortable being tied to a chair – he'd been angry and scared. When he and Morgause began to exchange terse words, he'd been defiant, angry, and scared. When she'd struck him, he'd been even more of all three. When Merlin and Xyla came in, he was mostly startled and scared. Then Xyla had grabbed Merlin and left, and he felt somehow betrayed, ridiculous though it was.

Then Morgana showed up and Morgause was yelling at him again, and the door opened and Merlin and Xyla came flying in _again_…

By now, he was feeling rather numb, actually. And not just because he was losing circulation.

Morgana and Morgause were the ones taken by surprise this time, not Merlin. They turned to face the door, looking rather stunned. Merlin stood there looking at them, breathing a bit hard, acting like a frozen idiot… (_Move!_ Arthur thought at him nervously.) And then he went for the weapons against the back wall.

Morgana and Morgause put their hands up at the same time, and the room filled with the buzz of magic, like lightning in a storm or angry bees.

"Merlin!" he warned, seeing what was coming.

So did Xyla, so she bent her knees, tensed, prepared herself… And she lunged, tackling Morgana to the ground. With a cross between a furious squeal and a dangerous roar, Morgana collapsed under Xyla, hitting the ground and losing her breath.

It distracted Morgana and Morgause long enough for Merlin to grab a sword from the wall, long and broad, like the one around Morgause's hip. Morgause recovered and sent a spell his way, her eyes flaring gold…

"_Llosgi!"_

But somehow Merlin ran right past it, avoiding the fireball that nearly set him ablaze. Dropping to his knees in an attempt to avoid whatever spell came next, he slid to a stop behind Arthur and lifted the sword to his bindings. Arthur would have noticed the quiet magic words he whispered, but the prince never noticed… and besides, he was distracted by the fact that his half-sister was currently trying to roll over on top of the girl in the blousy white shirt clutching a neckerchief. Morgause noticed, and couldn't deny the thrill of fear she felt at seeing his eyes flash gold.

_Emrys… The clumsy servant._

Arthur's bonds fell away, and Merlin stuffed the sword in his hands, knowing that once he got a weapon, the prince had it from there.

Morgause drew her own sword.

Merlin got ready for some background protecting.

Morgana seemed to have forgotten about her magic, because instead of using a spell on Xyla, she fought back. She tried to roll over on top of her—which would have crushed Xyla if she were about _five_ and a _lot_ smaller. She pulled Morgana's hair.

She'd wanted to do that for so long. It felt good.

Morgana slapped at her and tried to set her on fire, but Xyla managed to block it. She didn't retaliate with magic, rather using her energy to try and sink a fist into Morgana.

Arthur went for Morgause's neck, but the slender blonde moved out of the way and tried to respond with a blow of her own. Arthur blocked it, but just barely.

Merlin watched everything carefully, holding the long dagger he'd grabbed for himself, waiting for an opening for his magic. He didn't want to use it on Morgause until Arthur wasn't looking, and he couldn't blast Morgana without hitting Xyla… What were they doing anyway? It looked like the time Arthur and Gwaine abandoned their swords for some weak wrestling.

Morgause opened her mouth and Merlin watched in horror as she yelled something worse than a spell, her voice magically amplified: _"GUARDS!"_

Arthur glanced at Merlin. They needed to get out that door… Now. But they didn't have time… They'd have to get Morgause out of the way and peel Xyla off of Morgana, and even then they might not make it out before the guards came pouring in. This castle was big enough to fit a whole lot of men.

Merlin winced and lifted his dagger higher instinctively. Well, time to throw subtlety out the window and hope for the best.

Arthur's shock knew no bounds when he swung his sword at Morgause… and hit her. But instead of dying or even bleeding, she left the ground. With a sword swing, he somehow managed to send her crashing into the wall. She sank to the floor, senseless.

He stared at his blade. _How…?_

"Give it up," Morgana sneered, trying to get to her feet, too wrapped up in Xyla to notice Morgause's situation. "You can barely even use magic!"

Xyla glared at her and noticed her looking at Merlin again, so she knocked her down again. "Don't need to. I won't let you hurt Merlin."

Morgana stumbled back, her hair falling down and her dress crumpled. "He hurt _me_," she pointed out viciously. "He _poisoned_…"

"Oh, shut up!" groaned Xyla. "Would you _stop harping_ _on that_? A lot of people have been hurt before, you selfish witch!"

Xyla obviously wasn't so proficient at insults or name-calling, but Morgana sucked in her breath angrily, her face going pale, and she responded.

"What do you know?" she practically shrieked, her eyes flashing an uncontrollable gold. "What do you know, you filthy peasant, you… you whore daughter of a dirty magician!"

Xyla felt herself get a bit cold in the core, and realized she was too out of energy to even hate the woman before her. "You're insane, Morgana. Besides, they were magician_s_. Plural."

There was a beat.

"And I'm not a whore."

Merlin took advantage of Morgana's distraction and Arthur staring at his sword to use a wordless spell. There was no bright light, but Morgana went flying across the room and cracked her head on another wall.

Arthur looked up at the noise and saw Xyla breathing hard over Morgana's unconscious body, her feet still apart in a fighting pose.

Xyla and Arthur met eyes, and she smiled briefly. She looked over at Merlin and smiled wider, her eyes lighting up.

"C'mon," said Arthur. "They'll be here in seconds."

"What?" asked Xyla.

"Guards, didn't you hear?" replied Merlin, reaching for the wall of weapons again. "You want a knife or sword?"

"Knife," she replied, and he grabbed one. Arthur walked to the open door and peered out. Guards' feet clanked against the ground as they came running up the hall, swords out.

"Run!" he ordered, and after making sure that Xyla and Merlin were just behind him, he fled the room and ran down the opposite way.

Merlin passed the knife to Xyla as they ran out, slipping his own into his belt so he could grab it quickly. She followed suit, glancing back at the ever-nearing soldiers. "We can't outrun them," she pointed out, even as they tried, ducking down a side hall.

"Merlin!" snapped Arthur.

"What?" gasped Merlin, looking forward.

"Is this the way out?"

"I don't know!"

"It is," Xyla assured them, looking back again. "They're gaining."

"I know," Arthur informed her shortly. "Run faster."

Then they stopped talking and ran faster, blood pounding in their ears, the guards breathing down their necks… Xyla and Merlin exchanged one desperate look, and Merlin dropped behind.

They turned a corner when Arthur glanced back. "Where's Merlin?"

"He's coming… Keep going! No, don't stop…!" But Arthur had stopped, his new sword out again, and tried to head back, sending Xyla a look of disgust.

Before they could get into an argument, Merlin rounded the corner, breathing hard, his eyes innocently blue as though he hadn't just been using magic. "Why are you two just standing here?" he asked. "They've dropped behind, but not by much!"

They ran again. A stitch appeared in Xyla's side. Merlin's breath was ragged and wheezing. They couldn't stop.

* * *

><p>The courtyard of the castle. The rocks out there would provide some protection, Arthur knew, especially since the soldier's had fallen behind. It would also keep them safe from the archers.<p>

Because of course there were archers, and arrows were presently raining down like the deadliest precipitation ever. Arthur just kept running, praying they could all reach the first boulder in one piece. If they could just get past all this to the horses…

Xyla pushed herself, putting her body just a hair before Merlin and a few steps before Arthur, her eyes on the rocks, on the target, pushing back the intoxicating thoughts of _freedom_…

And then a small cry from behind stopped her in her tracks. She knew all the archers could know hit her like a horse flicking off a fly, but she had to turn. She saw Merlin sprawled on the ground, an arrow in his back, trying weakly to crawl to his feet, and weakness passed through her.

"Arthur!" she yelped, immediately starting for Merlin.

Arthur looked back and his heart leapt to his throat.

"Merlin!" he called, reversing and running back towards certain death. "Get up!"

"He can't!" cried Xyla in a panic. She bent down as an arrow went over her head and tried to take Merlin's arm. They didn't have time for that, though, so after a second and an arrow nicking the skin on his arm, Arthur sighed and reached for Merlin. He picked up the smaller man with a grunt and slung him over his shoulder, the arrow shaft sticking into the air.

"Don't stop!" he ordered her, and they kept going, Xyla watching with some awe as Arthur sped across the rocks with a grown man over his shoulders. And finally they reached the first boulder, diving behind it.

Xyla was on her stomach. Arthur crouched, ignoring the burning in his thighs thanks to Merlin's weight. Merlin gazed up at the boulder with glazed eyes.

"It's… the… king," he muttered to himself, and a small smile touched his lips. "Uther." And then, after another second of staring at the rock, he slumped down onto Arthur.

They weren't out of the woods yet.


	19. 18: Heal

**Chapter Eighteen**

After checking the rock (there was certainly no King Uther there; what was Merlin talking about?), Xyla looked down at Merlin and said, "He needs to be healed."

Arthur shot her a hard look. "We're being shot at and those guards might come charging out here any second."

"How far away are horses? Trees? Any kind of cover other than rocks?"

Arthur shifted Merlin's body on his shoulders and prepared to stand. "We can make it."

Xyla didn't know Arthur very well, but she was beginning to pick up on a vibe of unreasonable optimism and guessed Arthur would think they could make it if they were surrounded by a ring of fire. _Cocky, _she thought, shaking her head.

"Alright, let's go," said Arthur, standing and revealing himself as a target. "Stay as low as you can."

"Try not to let them hit Merlin!" she ordered, and thought he rolled his eyes as he began to run to the next boulder that would provide a bit of cover.

* * *

><p>The guards never did catch up to them, and eventually, after what seemed like forever of ducking behind rocks, they were out of reach of the archers. Xyla found herself wondering just how Merlin had made those guards "fall behind." They were probably in an injured heap still. Or maybe they'd gone to check on the witches.<p>

"The horses," gasped Arthur, his face red with exertion. He dropped heavily to his knees outside the woods, placing Merlin face-down on the ground.

"We made it," Xyla admitted, surprised. She knelt down next to him and tried to get a look at Merlin's back without touching the arrow. Now that she wasn't running for her life, she found the time to retie the scarf around her neck and brush her falling hair back. She'd have to put it up when she got a piece of twine or string.

"He looks horrible," she said, biting her lip. "And they took all my herbs and medicines!"

"They took my sword," Arthur said, only partly to her. He looked at the one in his hands. It was good. It just didn't feel like his. He glanced behind them. "Just because they aren't behind us now doesn't mean we're safe, sorceress," he told her, putting emphasis on the word _sorceress_, because he felt that escaping with her was altogether too friendly an action. And he wanted it clear that he disapproved of her. "We should keep moving. How bad is Merlin?"

Xyla didn't answer at first. She was leaning over Merlin. A thrill of fear went through Arthur. "How bad is he?" he asked again.

"Sorceress? Xyla!"

She looked up with a new alarm in her eyes. "Bad. Prince Arthur, I think he's dying." Blood was covering Merlin's back. Come to think of it, it had been dripping down while they ran too… They probably left a trail of blood. His face was pale, his breathing was shallow, and he wasn't conscious.

"Dying?"

"That arrow was near his heart, and all that running didn't help him."

"You're wrong." Arthur didn't mean to say it. It just slipped out.

Xyla's gaze hardened. "I'm a healer. I've been studying this sort of thing, _Prince Arthur_. I think I know."

Dying? He couldn't be dying! No! He was the reason Arthur had come along on this ridiculous adventure, and the reason Arthur hadn't killed the skinny little witch before him yet. Merlin couldn't die. He couldn't. Arthur didn't want him to die. He just… that wasn't how things worked. Merlin didn't die on adventures.

"I can save him," said Xyla. "I don't have my pack, but it's probably too late for that anyway. I _can_ save him… with magic." She reached for Merlin, but two strong hands grabbed her arms and yanked her away. She was pulled to her feet and pushed back.

"No!" Arthur insisted. "You won't use your magic on him. That's evil."

"I'm trying to save his life!" Xyla cried, distressed, trying to rush past Arthur. He pushed her back again and brandished his sword. "_Arthur, he's dying_!"

"He can't be," Arthur said, but his voice wavered. "I can't… I can't condone the use of magic." The words came out easily, practiced.

She tried to go around, but he took a hold of her and didn't let go. Merlin didn't move, just lay there, stark red and barely breathing.

"Fine!" she said. "Don't condone it! You don't need to let me!" She pushed him away and looked the prince in the eye. "I don't need you to condone anything. If you'll stop acting like a wall, I'll do it no matter what you think. I'd just like you to not run me through in the middle of a spell."

Arthur froze. Could he do that? Was that alright? It wasn't like… saying magic was acceptable… But Merlin wouldn't die. (Not that Merlin was dying, of course not, Merlin couldn't die.)

There was a moment of silence, punctuated by irregular breathing, and then Xyla added. "You'll probably never see me this serious again. I'm not going to let Merlin die because he saved me."

And then she walked around Arthur. He didn't move. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as she got to her knees beside Merlin and reached out for the arrow. "It's alright, Merlin," she could be heard whispering. "I'm going to use one of the simplest spells at first, okay? And then, I'm going to use more specific ones to finish the healing once it's not an emergency. This is going to hurt a bit…"

She kept talking, and didn't turn around to look and see if Arthur was approaching with a drawn sword. But that was fine, because he wasn't. He was just watching.

The arrow came out, easier than it should have, and Merlin didn't even twitch. The blood didn't flow, but the words from Xyla's mouth did. Her eyes were a shining gold, not fading. Spell after spell slipped out. Merlin's shirt ripped a little hole in itself of its own accord to allow her to see the injury.

Arthur fingered his sword but didn't move. This was healing. It didn't feel evil… It felt good. How strange.

The hole in Merlin's back seemed to be closing, starting in the inside and working upward until the skin was knitting back together. The scar shone white like when a finger presses into flesh too hard, and then faded until Arthur couldn't have even told where the wound was if he hadn't known.

Xyla touched the fabric lightly, still muttering faster than Arthur could think, and the fabric became whole again.

Xyla's eyes faded as she slouched, breathing hard. "That," she said to no one in particular, "takes a lot more practice than it looks like. Sorry I can't clean up the blood too, Merlin."

She patted his back and stood, at last looking at Arthur. He looked back at her. She looked exhausted and sweaty, and not just from the running.

"He'll be up in a second," she said. "You'd better find a place to camp; he won't be strong enough to move unless you like the idea of carrying him again." She turned towards the woods, but Arthur called to her:

"Where are you going?"

"To find some water for a drink and to wash a bit, if any can be found," she said. "I'll catch up."

"Oh." Arthur pointed, trying to be helpful while simultaneously not being friendly. "I think I saw some tiny creek over that way."

She nodded. "Thanks." Sighing and wiping a wet lock from her face, she turned and walked into the woods. Arthur watched her go for a second, and then looked back at Merlin.

Merlin's blue eyes were looking back at him. "Arthur?"


	20. 19: Discussing

_A/N: So, if I'm right, I'll probably pass 100 reviews this chapter. That's awesome, and I thank everyone who reads my story a million times. That is, I thank them a million times. They don't read a million times. Whatever, you know what I mean xD I've got a feeling next chapter will be the end of the story. _

**Chapter Nineteen**

They'd gone a little into the woods, tethered and taken care of their horses, and spread out their blankets. Then Arthur ordered Merlin to stay there while he went to find Xyla.

"Why can't I come help find her?" Merlin had asked.

Arthur just raised an eyebrow as though to say, "What a stupid question." Merlin had needed help just walking this far. He needed a bit more rest before he went looking for errant sorceresses.

Merlin sighed, not able to argue with the silent logic. "Don't kill each other," he almost pleaded.

Arthur smirked a bit, but Merlin shook his head.

"No, _really_."

As a thought struck him, Arthur replied, "We'll see. And don't think you're off the hook for dragging me along on a recue mission for a sorceress, either. We're going to talk about that."

Merlin had grimaced. It would probably be more of a yell-fest than a "talk," but he had supposed he should be glad Arthur didn't seem to be planning on chopping his head off. As far as Merlin could tell, that is, he wasn't planning on it.

Arthur left Merlin with the camp.

It took only a few minutes to spot Xyla. She was where he had told her the water was, sitting on the edge of a pathetic little creek that was only kept alive by a recent rain. Her hair had been taken down and re-put up, and was wet. Small beads of water were dribbling down her forehead and neck, but somehow she looked dirtier than ever. Arthur found himself wondering what exactly Merlin found irresistible.

She was staring at a tree top, her mouth turned up in a way that could have been a smile or could have just been natural. She turned to look at Arthur when he approached.

"We set up a camp," he told her.

"Is Merlin feeling alright?"

"A bit weak."

"To be expected after a healing."

"You know a lot about that, I guess."

She grinned at him in a slightly condescending way that irritated him every time. Merlin didn't seem to have a problem with it. (And the voice in Arthur's head that always sounded a bit like the Idiot himself pointed out that Merlin was used to dealing with _Arthur_; of course the mocking tone didn't bother him.)

"Haven't you been listening?" she asked. "That's what I do."

Arthur came up right beside her, and she looked up at him. He thought about sitting beside her, but decided that was too friendly. Instead he stayed awkwardly on his feet. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, he started in bravely.

"About Merlin and the healing. I thought I should…"

"If you are about to thank me for saving him, please don't," Xyla said. The smile was still on her face, but it was colder, a warning. "And if you're going to accuse me, don't do that either. I'll only think you're more of a hypocrite."

The words died in Arthur's throat. He felt the urge to deny what she'd said, but he couldn't think of the right words. He wasn't a hypocrite. He'd just wanted to protect Merlin… protect the man with the arrow in him from a healer? Okay, so he hadn't been thinking so straight. That wasn't hypocritical.

"Can I say that it's a good thing that you were thinking a bit more reasonably than I was at that point?" he asked with a sarcastic tinge to his voice. "Or will _that_ convince you that I'm a hypocrite too?"

She shrugged. "Was that an apology, or were you trying to start an argument?" she wondered out loud. "I can't really tell."

He didn't answer and she turned to stare at the tree top again. There was a little bird that hadn't been scared off by her and the prince talking. It was brown and happily flitting about on a branch. Suddenly she laughed cheerfully. "You know, Sire," she said, "you remind me of your father in some ways, and his complete opposite in other ways. It just kind of makes me wonder what your mother was like."

While he tried to decipher the meaning behind that, and whether or not he or his father had just been insulted (or both?), she sat there and thought out her next words. She knew what she wanted to say. How to say it?

Arthur leaned over to idly run his finger through the water. It was chilly, as he expected, but thick with dirt and debris.

"I just came to get you," he told her at last. "Merlin asked that we not kill each other right now. Though I doubt there's much you could do to me."

She chuckled.

There was silence again. Arthur shifted (but not nervously, since he didn't get nervous), and she thought some more. At last she decided how she wanted to say it.

"I don't think love makes any sense, really."

"What?"

"Just… the way it works. Or how love makes think or… act… I don't know. It's just…" Okay, this was coming out worse than she'd wanted. "Do you remember Kushi, the other girl who was with me… last time, in Camelot…?"

He remembered.

"I loved her as a sister. Well, a sister that one actually can put up with, sorry." Thinking of Morgana, she blushed a bit. "When she got killed, I really wanted to kill those archers. I would have, probably, except that arrow in my shoulder…" _And Merlin. _"It wasn't like her death physically hurt me, and it wasn't like she ever really didn't anything huge for me… saved my life or something. But I felt like the world was crashing down anyway." The smile had left her face. "Because that's how it is when you love someone, right? And it's a funny thing; when you love someone, you want them to be happy, right? Even if you pick on them like I did on Kushi. You want them to be happy and loved even more than just you can love them… You like people who like them, sometimes, just because they make them happy. Does that make sense?"

It didn't, but Arthur felt that he was getting the basic idea.

"I remember that shortly before my mother died, she told me how when she got married, her brother hated my father. They never got along, and my uncle just… hated him. Until he realized how much my father loved Mother. Then he started being nicer to him, tolerated him, and eventually liked him, even. I just think it's odd how that works. You put up with people who love those you love."

She was quiet so long that Arthur wondered if that was it.

But then she smiled brightly. "Prince Arthur, when you dreamed about Merlin being in trouble, why'd you jump to his aid so fast?"

Arthur's thoughts ground to a stop, and no matter how he tried to think of an excuse, his brain didn't seem to want to churn one out. "Well," he said at last. "What else was I going to do?"

She stood up. "That's what I figured… How much longer until we reach Camelot?"

The change of topic didn't throw him this time. He was catching on to how she drove conversations, he thought. He could work with it. "About a day, if Merlin regains his ability to move soon."

"I guess I'll have to head off around then," she mused. "Don't want to get arrested or anything." She looked like she was going to pout. "I hate to leave Merlin."

Arthur had a feeling Merlin would hate it too.

"Where's the camp?" she asked.

He started that way, brushing his blonde hair out of his face as he went. He kept his eyes ahead, but he could hear Xyla walking behind him, her wet hair still dripping behind her.


	21. 20: End

_A/N: I want to thank DarkAngel2112 one last time. And also Whirlwind421 for being reviewer 100!_

**Chapter Twenty **

Arthur loved Camelot. Merlin knew he cared for his people and kingdom more than he cared for himself, that he felt responsibility for Camelot and was at home there more than anywhere else.

Despite the unhappy greeting Camelot had given Merlin, he was beginning to understand the way Arthur felt. There was something comforting about seeing those gray, solemn towers rising up in the horizon after a quest, knowing that even though it looked calm, it was really as peaceful as a storm. Camelot felt like home—a dangerous home that could turn on him at any moment, sure, but he'd gotten used to that. Merlin was usually glad when he saw it there, reaching for the sky, where it had always been and ready for his return.

This time, though, the sight of it made a hard ball of sorrow form in his stomach.

That's where Xyla would leave them. He might never see her again. The thought made him feel lonely… and worried. Who knew what kind of trouble she'd get into if she was all alone?

"There it is," said Xyla as she looked up. She was seated behind Merlin on his horse, trying her best not to lean on him because she had a feeling it was making him uncomfortable when she did. Her back was beginning to ache from leaning back.

Arthur smiled, for he too saw Camelot beginning to take up the whole sky.

"I seem to remember leaving Gwaine in charge," he said almost to himself. "Let's make sure he hasn't completely destroyed the city."

"Gwaine?" asked Xyla. "That name sounds familiar."

"Sir Gwaine," said Merlin. "He mentioned having met you once. Something about a tavern?" His look was pointed.

There was a pause. Xyla's cheeks were a bit red, but then she raised her chin and flashed her teeth, saying, "How silly… Do I look like the kind of girl that frequents places like that?" There was a beat. "And on second thought, the name Gwaine _doesn't_ring a bell."

Merlin chuckled, the fist clutching his stomach loosening its grip.

Arthur glanced back at them and caught himself thinking about smiling, too. He banished the thought. Grabbing his reins, he said, "Well? Let's go."

He had his horse trot forward, and Merlin started to follow, but Xyla gestured for him to stop.

He looked back.

"Merlin," she said, "I think it's time for me to get down."

The fist squeezed. "Where will you go?" he asked her.

"Heal some people. Save some money. Find a town; get a place… frequent some taverns." She patted Merlin on the back. "I'll be fine."

She started to get down, but before she could, Merlin took her arm and stopped her by giving her a short kiss. (Arthur looked back towards Camelot with an inward sigh.) When he let her go, she fell off the horse.

"Are you alright?" he asked in alarm, starting to scramble down.

"Fine," she said, standing and brushing herself off. "No, don't bother. I'm fine. Was just off balance."

Arthur swallowed another smile. He figured he was glad to see her go… After all, he was terribly annoyed by her and her magic ways. But still, it was a bit sad to see that sorry look on Merlin's face. _You like those who like who you like. _She'd said something along those lines. He saw what she meant.

Xyla smiled up at the man up on the horse. "I'm going to miss you. Again."

"Me too. Stay out of trouble," he said thickly. He wouldn't let himself tear up. Arthur would mock him forever.

Xyla felt tears in her eyes, couldn't fight them back, and so instead wiped them away roughly. "I guess I'll see you again. Sometime. You know, next time you're not in some place where people want to kill me, let me know."

"Of course."

Xyla looked at Arthur. "Thanks for coming along," she told him. "And anything else I should thank you for." She glanced at Merlin and brushed her hair back. It was falling down. "Goodbye?"

He nodded at her civilly (civil was _not_the same as friendly). "Goodbye."

He looked back at Merlin, who was looking at Xyla.

And Arthur gave his horse a little kick. It started forward, and Merlin followed, his head hung a bit low. They didn't say a word as they went across the field, leaving Xyla to go her own way with her neckerchief. Arthur was thinking partly of going home – home to Gwen and his father – and partly of how Xyla had been quiet the past day. She hadn't argued with Arthur. She'd barely talked to him at all. He remembered how Merlin had pressed a few coins in her hand, saying they were to replace her supplies. After all, it was because of Morgana – who was Merlin and Arthur's enemy – that she lost them.

Merlin was going to miss her, Arthur figured. He hoped that it wouldn't make him depressed, because Arthur couldn't stand a melancholy Merlin.

* * *

><p>Xyla brushed aside the tears and turned her back on Merlin and Arthur, missing at once the sight of Merlin and his ears (because they never quite lost their charm for her). But she had to toughen up and keep walking. She couldn't go to Camelot with them, and Merlin didn't want to come with her. He wanted to protect that prince.<p>

_Hard to be competing with his best friend for the attention of a powerful warlock._

Well, why did she have to? Why couldn't she just let him give his attention as he saw fit and be happy with that?

Because she couldn't go to Camelot.

_Why?_

Of course she knew why. She didn't want to get executed. She didn't want to live under Uther, who killed her family, or under his son.

She pulled on her neckerchief. It was still tied to her magic right now. She'd fix that when she got a chance. She tried to think about that, but she found herself dwelling instead on the retreating Merlin and why she couldn't stay.

Maybe those were good reasons. But as she trekked back into some trees, sighing and facing the possibility of never seeing Merlin again… They actually seemed like rather weak reasons.

And she smiled suddenly.

* * *

><p>"Merlin!"<p>

Arthur and Merlin pulled up short, turning around. Xyla was running towards them, her hand up in the air, waving. Her brown hair spilled behind her and her scarf, comically similar to Merlin's, was pressed up against her neck from her speed.

She stopped beside Merlin, puffing, her face shining. "I want to come," she said.

"What?" Merlin and Arthur didn't know which of them said that.

"I want to go to Camelot!" she said. "Why not?"

Merlin stared at her in shock, repressing the bubble of hope in his chest. "But it'll be hard to find a job there…" he started. "And what if you got caught using magic?"

"I'll be careful," she promised. "And sure I can find a job. It's just starting off. I can do anything… save money or something, I don't care. It's not permanent. I just want to try it."

She paused to let that sink in. Arthur felt dizzy. A smile was beginning to grow on Merlin's face.

Xyla reiterated, "I want to go to Camelot too."

The smile dropped. "But Arthur…" Merlin looked at his master.

Xyla looked at him too. "Maybe Arthur will agree not to arrest me if I don't do anything vaguely evil?" she said (and in her head it suddenly occurred to her that maybe she shouldn't have told Arthur she was coming—but oh, well, she'd better make the best of it).

Arthur looked like he wanted to choke. "I…"

"Will you agree, Prince Arthur?" she asked with that teasing smile. She looked at Merlin pointedly, and Arthur knew she was thinking of how hurt and angry Merlin would be if he didn't agree.

Arthur was all set to say no, of course not, she couldn't come. He wasn't in the least persuaded or shaken by her brown eyes. No, in the end it was looking at Merlin that was Arthur's undoing. He just looked so hopeful… and… _Oh, hellfire, that smile should be illegal!_

But he couldn't really agree either.

So at last he did the only thing he could do. He shrugged, turned, and made his horse keep moving.

Xyla took that as a yes.

* * *

><p>Gwen was gladder than she could say to see Arthur and Merlin. (She also noticed a woman behind Merlin, who turned her face away at the dark woman's approach, but Gwen paid little attention to it—she had more on her mind.)<p>

"Oh, Arthur!" she sighed in relief. "There you are!"

"What's wrong, Guinevere?" he asked, coming down off the horse immediately, his face showing his concern.

(_Ah, _thought Xyla privately. _So there's still something there. How adorable!) _

"The knights," Gwen told him.

"What about them?"

Merlin suddenly remembered, and he smiled. Was this going where he thought it was?

"You remember how Lancelot was injured?" Gwen said. "Well, Gaius wouldn't let him out of bed, but he tried to escape, and the others tried to help him… And now Lancelot's tied to the bed with his finger broken, Gwaine's in the dungeons and he's _still _drunk, and Elyan's hiding from Gaius in my house and he _still _won't come out! And Gaius…" she trailed off and shuddered as though in terror.

Arthur groaned. "How… You know, I don't want to know. Just…" He shook his head and rubbed his nose. When Merlin laughed, he shot him a glare. "Let's fix it."

He got down off the horse, and behind him Merlin did the same. He turned to help Xyla down.

"We leave for less than a week…" Arthur mumbled. "I have to watch them every second, don't I?"

Xyla tried to stifle a giggle in Merlin's shoulder.

Arthur glared at her too, trying to show his extreme displeasure at everyone else's amusement, but the effect was rather ruined by the slight smile that was sort-of-almost-just-maybe pulling at his lips.

**End. **

_A/N: Thank you for reading! Consider leaving one last review? I hope you like it. I'm not really planning a sequel, and I don't think so, but we'll see. But I do hope to write an oneshot of the time where Gwaine met Xyla. Kitty O, over and out!_


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